Blessed are those
Who fell asleep on Easter night
Still disappointed and confused
For they are not alone
They are joined by frightened disciples
Bewildered women
Doubting Thomas
And the ones on the road to Emmaus
Who unknowingly confessed that evening
To Jesus himself
They no longer hoped he was the one
In fact
There were no celebrations that first Easter
No dramatic reveal
Some believed early that morning
Others learned that night
One waited another whole week
To be glad
And it was all more chaotic and haphazard
Than the tidy happy story
Our sunrise services tell
But their doubt
Did not keep Christ from rising
Christ rose in the darkness
Before they believed
This year, I am comforted in knowing
That Christ’s rising is not contingent on my belief
Or whether I feel like rejoicing
Christ does not need my permission to rise
Christ is risen anyway
I do not roll away the stone with my praises
It was gone before I awoke
I do not conjure the risen Christ
By keeping vigil
And Christ does not stay in the tomb
If I fall asleep early
Or numbly watch Netflix instead
And so it does not matter
Whether we can bring ourselves to
Celebrate on Easter Sunday
Or with Thomas next week
It matters only that
Christ rises in the darkness
Before we believe
You always speak to my heart.