What If the Resurrection Is True… and Personal?
Easter doesn’t always surprise us.
We know the drill: the pastel outfits, the family photo ops, the brunches, the baskets, the church service. We show up, we sing, we sit, we snap a photo. Then we move on.
But what if Easter wasn’t just something to observe…
What if it was something to live?
What if the resurrection of Jesus isn’t just a historical event to believe—but a present reality to experience?
We know the drill: the pastel outfits, the family photo ops, the brunches, the baskets, the church service. We show up, we sing, we sit, we snap a photo. Then we move on.
But what if Easter wasn’t just something to observe…
What if it was something to live?
What if the resurrection of Jesus isn’t just a historical event to believe—but a present reality to experience?
The Resurrection: A Global Celebration, A Personal Invitation
This spring, over 2.6 billion people celebrated the resurrection of Jesus. That number is staggering. But far more staggering is the claim at the center of it all: Jesus is alive.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
Literally.
That empty tomb outside Jerusalem wasn’t just the end of a tragic story—it was the beginning of a new one. The one where God said death wouldn’t get the final word. Where love walked out of the grave.
Even Jesus’ enemies couldn’t produce a body. All they had was an empty tomb and a scrambled explanation.
But the evidence didn’t stop there. Eyewitnesses reported seeing Him—not just one or two, but hundreds. And the most compelling piece? The men and women who were too afraid to be seen with Jesus while He was dying suddenly became bold enough to die for Him after He rose.
You don’t suffer a martyr’s death for a hoax.
You don’t die for something you know is a lie.
Not metaphorically.
Not symbolically.
Literally.
That empty tomb outside Jerusalem wasn’t just the end of a tragic story—it was the beginning of a new one. The one where God said death wouldn’t get the final word. Where love walked out of the grave.
Even Jesus’ enemies couldn’t produce a body. All they had was an empty tomb and a scrambled explanation.
But the evidence didn’t stop there. Eyewitnesses reported seeing Him—not just one or two, but hundreds. And the most compelling piece? The men and women who were too afraid to be seen with Jesus while He was dying suddenly became bold enough to die for Him after He rose.
You don’t suffer a martyr’s death for a hoax.
You don’t die for something you know is a lie.
But Can You Experience the Risen Jesus?
Here’s the question that haunts me:
Can the resurrection be more than just true? Can it be personal?
It’s one thing to nod along at the story. It’s another to be changed by it.
In Luke 24, there’s a story about two people walking home from Jerusalem after Jesus’ death. They’re disoriented, disillusioned, and heartbroken. Jesus joins them on the road—but they don’t recognize Him. Not at first.
They talk. They walk. They wrestle with what they’ve just lived through. And then, in a quiet moment over dinner, Jesus breaks the bread… and suddenly, they see.
“He was with us,” they say later, “and our hearts were burning the whole time.”
That’s what Easter invites us into—not religious routine, but recognition. Not performance, but presence.
Can the resurrection be more than just true? Can it be personal?
It’s one thing to nod along at the story. It’s another to be changed by it.
In Luke 24, there’s a story about two people walking home from Jerusalem after Jesus’ death. They’re disoriented, disillusioned, and heartbroken. Jesus joins them on the road—but they don’t recognize Him. Not at first.
They talk. They walk. They wrestle with what they’ve just lived through. And then, in a quiet moment over dinner, Jesus breaks the bread… and suddenly, they see.
“He was with us,” they say later, “and our hearts were burning the whole time.”
That’s what Easter invites us into—not religious routine, but recognition. Not performance, but presence.
How to See What’s Always Been There
Sometimes we miss Jesus, not because He isn’t near, but because we’ve stopped looking.
Our brains are wired to notice what we care about. It’s called the Reticular Activating System—a fancy name for the filter in your brain that decides what matters to you. Ever bought a new car and suddenly started seeing that model everywhere? Or got pregnant and suddenly noticed every other pregnant woman on the planet?
It’s not that they weren’t there before.
It’s that now, you’re paying attention.
The same is true of God.
Scripture says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13). He’s not hiding. He’s just waiting to be noticed.
Our brains are wired to notice what we care about. It’s called the Reticular Activating System—a fancy name for the filter in your brain that decides what matters to you. Ever bought a new car and suddenly started seeing that model everywhere? Or got pregnant and suddenly noticed every other pregnant woman on the planet?
It’s not that they weren’t there before.
It’s that now, you’re paying attention.
The same is true of God.
Scripture says, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (Jeremiah 29:13). He’s not hiding. He’s just waiting to be noticed.
Finding Jesus in the Everyday
If you're looking for God in lightning bolts and mountaintops, you might miss Him. But look in the ordinary, and you’ll find He’s been walking with you the whole time.
He’s there:
We encounter Jesus in the Scriptures, yes. But also in the sacred ordinary. In conversations. In questions. In memories. In meals.
The risen Christ isn’t confined to a moment in history. He wants to be known now.
He’s there:
- In the quiet steam of your morning shower
- In the drop-off line at school
- In the silence after the dishes are done
- In the voice of a friend who says just the right thing
- In the whisper in your heart that says, you’re not alone
We encounter Jesus in the Scriptures, yes. But also in the sacred ordinary. In conversations. In questions. In memories. In meals.
The risen Christ isn’t confined to a moment in history. He wants to be known now.
“I Stand at the Door and Knock…”
One of the most remarkable details in the Emmaus story is this: Jesus didn’t force His way in. He “acted as if He were going farther.” It wasn’t until they invited Him in that their eyes were opened.
And isn’t that just like Him?
Jesus is a gentleman. He doesn’t barge into your heart uninvited. He knocks. He waits. And when we open the door, He walks in—not with condemnation, but companionship.
In Revelation 3:20, Jesus says, “Here I am. I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and they with me.”
What a stunning picture.
The God of the universe wants to sit at your table.
And isn’t that just like Him?
Jesus is a gentleman. He doesn’t barge into your heart uninvited. He knocks. He waits. And when we open the door, He walks in—not with condemnation, but companionship.
In Revelation 3:20, Jesus says, “Here I am. I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with them, and they with me.”
What a stunning picture.
The God of the universe wants to sit at your table.
The Table Is Where We See Him
When Jesus broke the bread in that Emmaus kitchen, something clicked. It wasn’t a sermon or a sign. It was a simple, sacred moment—breaking bread. Sharing a meal.
That’s where they recognized Him.
And it’s where we often do too. Around tables. In shared silence. In communion. In sacred memory.
The table has always been Jesus’ favorite place to reveal Himself. He ate with sinners and skeptics, doubters and deniers. And He still does.
Even when we forget what He looks like.
Even when we’re not sure if He’s listening.
Even when we’re not sure if we’re worthy.
That’s where they recognized Him.
And it’s where we often do too. Around tables. In shared silence. In communion. In sacred memory.
The table has always been Jesus’ favorite place to reveal Himself. He ate with sinners and skeptics, doubters and deniers. And He still does.
Even when we forget what He looks like.
Even when we’re not sure if He’s listening.
Even when we’re not sure if we’re worthy.
So Let’s Make This Personal
Easter isn’t a photo op.
It’s an invitation.
Not just to believe—but to belong.
Not just to remember—but to respond.
Not just to say He rose—but to say, He’s here. With me.
So what if you started looking for Him?
What if you whispered, “Jesus, I want to see You. I want to know You.”
Don’t be surprised when He shows up.
Because He always does.
It’s an invitation.
Not just to believe—but to belong.
Not just to remember—but to respond.
Not just to say He rose—but to say, He’s here. With me.
So what if you started looking for Him?
- In the mess of your kitchen
- In the silence of your car
- In the questions that haunt you
- In the ache that won’t let go
What if you whispered, “Jesus, I want to see You. I want to know You.”
Don’t be surprised when He shows up.
Because He always does.
The Resurrection Isn’t Over
Jesus lives.
And He wants you to live too—not just in eternity, but now. Fully. Freely. With hope, and joy, and presence.
So don’t let Easter be a moment you pass through.
Let it be a movement that begins in your heart.
Break the bread. Pour the cup. Sit at the table.
And open your eyes to the One who’s been walking with you all along.
He is risen.
He is risen indeed.
And you are not alone.
And He wants you to live too—not just in eternity, but now. Fully. Freely. With hope, and joy, and presence.
So don’t let Easter be a moment you pass through.
Let it be a movement that begins in your heart.
Break the bread. Pour the cup. Sit at the table.
And open your eyes to the One who’s been walking with you all along.
He is risen.
He is risen indeed.
And you are not alone.