Standing At The Grave....

The day was overcast. The Alaskan December weather was briskly cold but not snowing. I found myself staring at the vast, dark, dirt hole at my feet. Right beside the hole, laid my mother's casket. Soon, my dad and brothers would lift it with the ropes and gently let it down into the dark cavern that laid there.
I stared. It seemed so cold and dark and lonely. I didn't want to put my mom down there. I wanted her to be alive where it was light and warm, where we could laugh again and let her know how much we loved her.
My dad and brothers began to lift the ropes and lower her slowly down till the casket hit the dark shaded dirt at the bottom. We were all there. The family that loved her. We each threw flowers on the top of the casket and could hear the thug on the wooden box as each one landed. We were all quiet. Our hearts were weeping.
I stood there, and the account of the Resurrection of Jesus, became so real and dear to me. If Jesus hadn't come, died and risen again for mankind, then looking into the dark sullen grave would of been all I had. There would of been no hope. BUT He conquered the grave! Hallelujah Christ Arose!!! When I get to heaven, after I see Jesus, I will run into the arms of my mommy and oh, hold her so close. Because of Him, I have that hope!