...a word from Kathy

A few weeks ago, we celebrated Easter. We celebrated the women running from the tomb to tell the Good News. What a glorious picture! Today my mind takes me back to the Saturday before Easter Sunday. The disciples were gathered together perhaps wondering what had just happened. How could Jesus be dead? How could this have happened? I thought we were on the right path to victory. A tragedy. I can see the room, full of people murmuring, crying, shouting in anger, people sitting on mats, reclined on pillows, eating or not eating. I’m confident that some were problem solving, trying to fix the situation. Others were emotionally devastated. And then there would be the numb ones, the silent ones. I would have been in this numb group. Those who just can’t seem to feel. Isolated and sitting alone in the upper room. Thinking, ‘now what’? In modern day language, ‘are you kidding me’? This is where I find myself today. Numb. In my numbness, I’m reliving memories of days gone by. ...

I t was an early December morning in north Mississippi about 6 a.m. and I was on my way to Jackson. This 2-hour drive through the rural south is completely familiar to me. Two-lane tree-lined highways make up much of the drive. On each side of the highway tall pine trees stand and sway. It was a chilly, wintry morning. I’ve driven this highway for 25 years…first to and from college then for my job duties. Nothing about it is unknown or new to me – until this December day. Immediately, I began to hit patches of fog. As I traveled south, the fog became denser and the roadway kept winding between the hills. After some time, I realized that I was holding the steering wheel rather tightly and as I tried to see my surroundings, I realized I had no idea where I was – except in the middle of heavy, heavy fog. My car kept pushing forward at 65 mph and I followed the road stripes closely. Nothing was familiar, no signage was visible, no cell reception, no landmarks, bright...

They had just lived a really busy week. Passover was always busy with so many people, so much food to prepare, and so many activities. But added to those preparations and plans, their beloved Jesus had been tried and crucified. Days later they find themselves at His tomb and He is not there! Their joy was overwhelming; the fear of what they were seeing had to be so very confusing. Their hearts surely were about to burst and so they did the only thing they knew to do, they ran to tell someone – then He met them. In Matthew 28:9, I am again surprised by Jesus. “Suddenly, Jesus met them”. “Greetings”, says the Lord Jesus. Can you even imagine? Did the women, fall down or bump into each other as they stopped abruptly at His sudden appearance. Were they winded, hot and sweaty as they were running and now stood amazed at the sight of Jesus? The Bible says, ‘they came to him, clasped his feet and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, do not be afraid. Go and tell my brother...

Sunday was a beautiful day of worship and communion in my church. We celebrated the new life Jesus has given to us. We sang, we praised, we worshipped, we studied the Word, we celebrated communion as a body of believers. He is Risen indeed! I love the visual in Matthew 28, it reads: “so the women hurried away from the tomb afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples.” Can you imagine how hard it must have been to RUN in their dress of the day and in sandals! Yet, they ran. I envision an almost hysterical, giggling, crying, exuberant group of women running in joy to tell the good news: Oh my gosh, He did not die, He is ALIVE! Yes, I promise.I am not kidding you! Come see! My typical “non-running” week: Monday…the week begins with errands, errands, errands… Tuesday…I prepare for a Wednesday bible study. A study where 80 women gather to study His word and apply it to our lives. Wednesday…Bible study all morning where great truths are revealed. This ...

The parking lot was crowded. It seemed as though it was Easter Sunday instead of Palm Sunday. My family and our friends hurried in to get a seat. Palms lined the floor. We had to walk over them to enter into the worship area. Yes, Palm Sunday indeed. The palms mark Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem. The people honored Him as he rode past them. They took their cloaks and palm branches and lay them on the ground for his colt to walk over. They waved the branches in His honor shouting, Hosanna! Hosanna! A parade for the King of Kings who would soon be tortured, mocked, murdered and miraculously resurrected – for us. Palm Sunday marks the beginning of what many call, Holy Week. The details we read in Scripture will mark the days of this week. The familiar story told and retold. As I read the words from Luke 19, the story of the Triumphal Entry is beautiful. But I wonder…is it beautiful because I know how it ends? Would it have been beautiful to me if I had b...

I reached a tipping point today. You know, an intersection in your life where you are urged forward even if it is a tiny, tiny step. A place where your heart quickens, your pulse increases, tears come...He's spoken to you, "Trust me, take a step". So, that is where I find myself on this cold, rainy day in Tuscaloosa...taking a step. There are those in my life who have encouraged me to write, encouraged me to open up to this world of words. To those special encouragers, thank you for gently pushing me to this tipping point. God continues to call each of us to that place where He tips us out into the world for His mission. How amazing: He's redeemed us and chosen to use us in the redemption of the rest of His people. This is not a choice I have, it is a privilege to carry His name into the world. What is your tipping point? Where is He nudging you? Just one step...