The first person Jesus revealed himself to after he *rose from the dead* was a woman.
The single most important event that had occurred up to that point; the event that would shape and redefine history and all of the future.
This was in a time when women were viewed as property and their testimonies were inadmissible in court even if they swore their collective lives on it.
And this one had been through a lot. She had been healed of her inner demons (literally), but still....more on the fringe of society than most.
Interesting choice. Probably wouldn’t have been mine.
And because all his plans are on purpose, it’s made me realize a few things. First, I am more valued than I could possibly comprehend. I have a voice and he’s given me something to say. I matter and it matters that I show up, even if I’m a mess. Especially if I’m a mess.
I will sometimes be called into places and situations where no one else will go, or has been before. I will question if I’m ready. But my search for him makes me brave, even in darkness.
Second, he’s going to do what he does and nothing will get in his way. My title, my position, and how society sees me play no role in him accomplishing his will. My lack doesn’t limit him any more than my abilities assist him - he doesn’t actually need me (or my status) for anything.
So, ladies, there’s the ultimate paradox - beautiful in our brokenness, loved because he chose us.
Finally, there was a reason she showed up while it was still dark - not even daylight yet - and it wasn’t to witness the miraculous or to be the first in line.
It’s because he was the one who healed her. Included her. Loved her. Called her by her name. And she just wanted to know where he was taken - to be near him if she could.
Let’s not get so caught up in looking for the miracles that we lose sight of the miracle worker.
Let’s never be too busy to get up while it’s still dark and go and find him.
