We were waiting for it— big time— the drop of the other shoe— Him, whirling around, standing nose to nose, pointing that scary finger, scolding, angry as hell, eyes like knives, slashing through our layered lies, ripping through our cloaks of cowardice. Our eyelids hung like leaden weights we’d borne for centuries. The women swore they saw him, swore he said, “Don’t be afraid.” We scoffed, too tight with fear to hear the opening door. Before we even turned our heads, his voice—its soft rain, steady, sure— soaked through our shame: “Peace be to you.”
Like this post? Subscribe to have new posts sent to you by email the same day they are posted.
Brian Donst says
Wow! Resurrection as forgiveness.
Margaret Palliser, OP says
Just beautiful, Regina!
Annmarie Sanders says
I love this! So vivid and powerful.