![]() "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" – Luke 24:32 The lilies are still blooming, the hallelujahs are still fresh on our lips, but life begins to settle on Easter Tuesday. The resurrection has come and gone in liturgical time, but the story is still unfolding in our personal lives. What do we do with resurrection when the confetti is swept up and Monday’s routine returns with anxieties and obligations? This is where trust steps in. Trusting God in the days after the miracle is one of the significant spiritual challenges of the faithful. Easter Tuesday invites us into the holy tension of believing before seeing, walking while wondering, and trusting when life still resembles Saturday’s silence. The story in Luke 24 tells of two disciples walking to Emmaus. It’s a day like today—after the resurrection, after the angelic announcements, after the women had told what they saw. And yet, these two are walking in confusion, sadness, and disbelief. They had hoped, they said, that Jesus was the one. Now, hope was buried. They are us. Easter doesn’t always eliminate our doubts. Sometimes resurrection comes so unexpectedly that we don’t recognize it at first. Jesus meets them on the road, not at the temple, not in a blaze of glory, but in the dust of their disappointment. And he walks with them. That’s the heart of trust: walking even when unsure, because Jesus is near, even if unrecognized. One of the hardest things to admit as people of faith is that sometimes, we don’t understand what God is doing. We know the promises. We’ve read the scriptures. And yet, the timing or the outcome doesn’t make sense. The Emmaus travelers didn’t know they were walking with the risen Christ until he broke bread with them. Only then were their eyes open. We may not see clearly, but God is still at work. Easter Tuesday is the invitation to keep walking. Trusting. Listening. Even in confusion, because understanding often follows obedience. Let’s be honest. Trusting God doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine. The beauty of Easter is not in the absence of pain, but in its transformation. What if today you offered God your fears, questions, anger, and even silence—not to be shamed, but to be held? That, too, is trust. Trusting God is not just a mindset; it’s a practice. Jesus doesn’t rush the Emmaus travelers. He walks at their pace. Let that be a word for you, too. You don’t have to have it all together. You don’t need to understand everything. Your job is walking. Jesus will meet you there.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorAbout Rev. Dr. Erin Marie Burns (But please, just call me Erin!) I’m a pastor, writer, and professional "showing-upper" when life gets messy. Around here, we talk about grief, faith, hope, and how to care for people when words just aren’t enough—because let’s face it, sometimes life hands us more questions than answers (and that's okay). I believe in the holy power of just being there, that coffee should basically count as a spiritual practice, and that God shows up in the small, quiet moments—like a kind text, a shared silence, or a garden full of stubbornly beautiful dahlias. When I’m not writing or walking alongside folks in hard seasons, you’ll probably find me: Attempting to tame my garden (the weeds usually win). Practicing archery like I’m training for a medieval adventure. Chasing family time, deep conversations, and maybe a slice of pie. If you’re looking for real talk, a little humor, and gentle reminders that you don’t have to fix everything—you’ve found your spot. Pull up a chair, grab a mug of something warm, and stick around. We’re in this together. P.S. Come back next week—grief, faith, and hope aren’t one-time conversations! ArchivesCategories |