Obstacles

 Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?” (Mark 16)

These are “the women”, you remember. They’re on their way to Jesus’ tomb to anoint the body because after the crucifixion Friday night, it was too late to do that with the Sabbath starting. They’re off to do the work, like women do. And fully aware that there is a giant obstacle standing in the way of that work.

A stone covers the opening to the tomb where Jesus’ body is laid. A HUGE stone – so big it would require several men to move it, and the ladies are fretting a bit on the way there about what could be done.

Folks, I’ve had huge stones like this in my life. Giant obstacles far beyond my capability to remove, standing right in the middle of the road God had sent me down, right smack dab in the way of what I felt like he had called me to do. I can relate to these women. I’ve got work to do, dang it. And there’s a big honkin’ STONE in the way.

You know what struck me in this story this time? The fact that the women are talking about this on the way to the tomb. They could have just sat at home and said, “Ah, well. We had good intentions, but there’s that stone, you know. There’s no way to get in there. I’m sure the Lord understands.” Nope, they’re walking to the tomb. They know the stone is there – they know they can’t move it – but they’re still on their way, spices in hand, to anoint the body.

This reminds me, too, of the Israelites crossing the Jordan River in Joshua 3. It says the priests went first, carrying the Ark of the Covenant, and “as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing.” They didn’t stand on the shore staring upstream, waiting for the river to stop. They walked. And God dammed up the Jordan River . . . but not until the priests’ feet got wet.

I don’t do that. When there is a giant obstacle in my path, I stop walking. Actually, all too often, I wait to know that the road is clear before I even head out in the first place. Or I assume I must have heard wrong – apparently I wasn’t supposed to go this way after all because if I were, surely God would have made a wide, easy path for me, right?

I’m admiring these women today. They didn’t sit on their duffs, sniffling and sighing; they acted. They grabbed their supplies and walked to the tomb. And when they got there, “they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away.”

Very large obstacle: removed. (And actually, no need for them even to try to preserve that dead body anymore – God took care of that job, too.)

I’ve got obstacles right now. Big, immovable stones standing in the way of where I suspect God wants me to be. And I can’t promise I won’t get discouraged again, as I’ve done in the past, but today, I’m walking, watching expectantly for God to move the mountains. ‘Cause he’s done it before, and I’m eager to see him do it again. Really, genuinely excited to witness it.

Anticipating the feeling of that cold water trickling over my feet – my cue to look and see what God has done!