Thomas, the one called Didymus, one of the Twelve, wasn’t with the disciples when Jesus came. The other disciples told him “we’ve seen the Lord!” But he replied, “unless I see the nail marks in his hands, put my finger in the wounds left by the nails, and put my hand into his side, I won’t believe.
My grandfather loved cars. He loved junkyards, race tracks, parts stores, anything related to internal combustion and other loud, mechanical things. He fixed up a Ford Ranchero that woke up our whole block when he fired it up to head into work before the sun came up.
I remember one day as a teenager when I was visiting with him in the summer he woke me up and told me to get dressed because we were going to go look at a truck. This did not excite me in the least. We headed south. It got hotter and hotter. Virginia… North Carolina… driving down county roads, him occasionally muttering that some tobacco field looked familiar, another turn, another hour. I dozed and slid around on the leather bench of the Town Car until, suddenly, we stopped.
About a hundred yards away from the shoulder of the road, in the middle of a fallow field, sat a rusted out Ford truck body, fifty years old, no wheels, lights, or anything, just a “FOR SALE” sign propped up where the windshield should have been. He hopped up and practically sprinted across the field, looking at it from every corner, nodding appreciatively. I don’t even think he wrote down the phone number or ever followed up. He just wanted to see that truck. Where I saw junk, he saw a treasure.
Jesus rose from the dead and calls each of us into new life. This is the heart of our hope. No matter what shape you are in, God sees through to the heart and is able to work a miracle of restoration within you. Any brokenness, any damage, any distance, any division can be reconciled and renewed through the grace of God. We can all be made new, today. Happy Easter!
Grace and Peace,