Jesus will meet you here.

On Easter, I read through all the passages in the gospels about what happened on Resurrection Sunday.

First of all, as I was flipping through Matthew trying to find Sunday, I noticed the Pharisees are listed as ones who went to see Pilot about sealing the tomb so Jesus’ disciples couldn’t steal His body and claim He was raised from the dead.

Why? Because the Pharisees remembered that Jesus had said that after three days He would rise from the dead.

The Pharisees. The ones who followed the law so closely they missed the Messiah they’d been waiting for. They knew all the facts. All the rules. But they missed the whole point.

They knew what He said. They remembered it. But they didn’t believe it was true.

The disciples, on the other hand, believed Jesus was the Messiah. They were close to Him. They followed Him (literally). They heard His teachings. They witnessed miracles. But when He died, they were wildly confused about what was happening because they didn’t remember what He had said.

It made me think about when you’re so close to something, it’s harder to see it clearly. Maybe that’s why the disciples couldn’t recognize what was happening. Maybe that’s why the Pharisees remembered what Jesus had said – because they never got close to it. They watched from afar, documenting what He said, and being angry about it.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing if I can’t recognize the miracle that’s unfolding right before my eyes. Maybe it means I’m close.

As I read on to what happened on Sunday, the thing that caught my attention was how Jesus revealed Himself, over and over, to people who “should” have known but didn’t.

Mary was talking to Jesus, asking where He was, but she didn’t recognize that it was Him until He said her name.

The two men on the road to Emmaus were walking and talking with Jesus, hearing Him describe how He fulfilled the Word of the Lord, but they didn’t recognize that it was Him until they invited Him in to eat and He blessed the bread, broke it, and gave it to them.

Later, after hearing stories like these, Thomas insisted that he wouldn’t believe Jesus was alive unless he saw the nail marks in Jesus’ hands, put his finger where the nails were, and put his hand into His side. And that’s exactly what Jesus had him do.

Most days, I try to remember what Jesus said. I try to see my circumstances through the lens of what He said and how I believe it, in spite of what I see in front of me. I try to be hopeful and expectant because I know there is more happening than what I can see.

I try not to be like the disciples, basically.

But sometimes I can’t. Sometimes it just feels wild out here, and I might remember what Jesus said, but it’s hard to make sense of it in real time, in the midst of real circumstances. My mind simply cannot comprehend the miracles I’m about to see and I feel desperate instead.

What I kept thinking about on Easter morning is how Jesus meets us exactly where we are in that. When He was resurrected, He didn’t go to the Pharisees and tell them they did a great job because they remembered His words. He went to the people who believed Him and were struggling because of it, and He revealed Himself.

But here’s the thing. He revealed Himself, not just because of who they were, but because they were asking for it. Mary was searching for Him. The two on the road to Emmaus invited Him in to stay with them. Thomas laid out his request.

Whatever your situation looks like, keep believing. Keep searching for Jesus in it, keep inviting Him in, keep making your requests known. He will reveal Himself.

Draw near to Him and He will draw near to you.

The power of God is in you, even on a Thursday.