Todays, message is going to be about a girls struggle to understand and believe the fact that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead.  Growing up in California might sound like a dream to some with it ‘s sunny days, sandy beaches and playing in the water.  But after living there from age 12 until I went off to collage it was more like being in darkroom, and taking a cold ice bath.  I was bullied in school from day one, having told others I was a PK kid (preacher’s kid).  It all started because my first day of class the teacher asked me to tell a little about myself and my family.  Ever since then my class poked, tared and fathered me every chance they got for any sign of me being a Christian.

  I remember sitting downing and praying for my lunch and while I was praying some kid quickly grabbed my chocolate milk and dumped it on my head and new white school shirt.  To say the least I was embarrassed. I ran out crying and had to wear  gym cloths for the rest of the day.   When I got home I was too embarrassed to tell my parents, so I ran to the shower and cleaned myself up. 

 Another time I left my bible on the school grounds because I was reading during our lunch. The kids found it, tore pages out, taped them to my locker making one sheet ,and wrote Jesus freak on them. That day I was so angry I could have punched a kid. But I remember my parents telling me that people did worse things to Jesus and he forgave them.  Not to mention every year they seemed to find a new name for me.  Milk head, freaky geek, and some that are R-rated so say my parents. 

By my second year in high school, I grew tired of the consistent attacks. One day opening my locker after lunch, having just received an ear full of my latest nick name, I opened my locker and discovered upside down crosses, I cried.  Running to the girl’s restroom I buried my face in my hands until it was time to take the bus home. 

While in the bathroom at home and wiping more tears from my face a thought hit me. I don’t see how Jesus could have been a real human and dealt with people hating him so much. Locking the bathroom door I grab my dad’s box cutter blade I got from his tool shed. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with my left leg inside the tube I press and drag the blade on my skin until my skin splits and blood begins slid down my leg. I made a four-inch line, by this time I have at least 30 lines, I am slowly building to deeper and longer cuts. As I drag the blade across my skin again, I stopped and was surprised by a light knocking and sweet voice at the door.  The voice was my grandmother’s she said,” honey are you okay, you have been in there for a while?” My response,” Yes, grandma I am fine, I will be out in minute.” 

 Like a ton of bricks on my foot, I also thought again about Jesus. Realizing I do not know if I can believe that Jesus was raised from the dead. I walked to my bible turned to Mark 16:6 

⁶ But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid Him. ⁷ But go, tell His disciples—and Peter—that He is going ^[a]before you into Galilee; there you will see Him, as He said to you.” (NKJV) But even though I just read Jesus rose from the dead in my heart I could not stand on a hill and fight that battle especially if tested by my unfriendly, class mattes who challenged me even more.

That day I said, “If Jesus really rose from the dead and I discovered it for myself then I will swallow my fear and tell my parents I am being bullied but if not, I will, keep cutting myself until I bleed out.” 

Last year I started cutting my arms with a razor blade just to see what the pain felt like.  I thought, I could handle pain because I was already in pain ,what could a little more do.  Now I have marks on my arms and my legs. Plus, I’m starting to learn about anatomy. I was able to find the femoral artery that runs up my thigh, if I cut it right I would end my life in a few minutes.  This was appealing because I rather die than live in the pain of being a preacher’s kid, I have no friends and my parents don’t get me. 

I started by asking my mom about Jesus having been raised from the dead. I asked my mom, a preacher’s wife, and she just says, “You have to believe with all your heart.” I felt let down and disappointed because I did not understand how her personal belief was sufficient to positively know that Jesus was raised from the dead. Despite my mother’s deep sincere belief, I needed more to feel confident to stand against the bullies at my school.  So, disheartened, I slowly walked down a hallway to my dad. I thought surely my dad, a preacher, could help me nail down this understanding.  Upon seeing my Dad,I said, “Dad why do you feel that Jesus was resurrected from the dead?” He said, “Daughter, feelings have little to do with it, I know.” Wow, yes, I thought this is what I need.  Softly, but eagerly I encouraged him to continue, “tell me more.” “Well,” he said, “The bible is a history book not a fairy tale or fake news. It is reporting on the facts that played out in the world as they really happened.”  I then ask, “How do you know what is written in the bible is right and not a fairy tale?” My Dad sitting up straight and leaning forward said, “You have to believe with all your heart.”  My heart sank to floor, not again, I thought.  “But wait” said her dad excitedly. I said, “Yes.” “If you have doubt in your heart you have to learn to cut it out to reveal the truth.” Nodding my head and looking at my dad I encouraged him to keep going.  But he responded, “That is it, honey.” Still disappointed but a little happy I said, “Thank you, dad.” He responded, “Your welcome honey.” He continued reading his paper and I walked away to see the last person I could think of to ask about the resurrection of Jesus, my grandma.

Conveniently, she lived downstairs in our guest room, it was my brothers old room before he went off to college.  Standing before the white door, I stared at a golden doorknob wanting to turn it, rush inside, drop to my knees and beg my grandmother to help me. On the inside I was crying but, on the outside, I refrained from it, so I could have the look of a person that had themselves together. I lifted my hand, pressed my knuckles against the door and barely lifted them to knock on the door.  Lightly I knocked due to my discouraged inner self. No, one answered, and I knocked again, no one answered.  Letting my hand drop to my side, I stared at the white door imagining cutting into my thigh with my dad’s razor blade and seeing my blood flow out of the cut down my leg and into the bathroom sink.   I turned my foot pointing away from the door toward the tool shed outside to get the razor blades. Walking away slowly stepping as if I am held down by a ball and chain.  I stop and I questioned myself murmuring, “Why do I take my time if I truly want to cut myself?” Upon reflection I realized I still hoped that I could believe that Jesus Christ was resurrected from the dead. So, I turned my body, not fully committing to standing before the white door, and lazily brought my arm up to the door and knocked, no answer. Again, dropping my hand back beside me I looked down that hallway and thought of how the bullies treated me just because I’m a Christian.

I hear a creek coming from behind me, turning my head and looking over my shoulder the door cracks open and I see frail, wrinkled face, with soft eyes and I hear a sweet voice say, “come in sweetie.”  A flood of relief came over my body for a moment feeling refreshed as if I was parched and got a sip of water. The fleeting moment was enough to turn me to that door and provoke me to walk through it.

 My grandmother opened the door wide enough for me to step sideways into it and she had already taken her seat.  Slowly, grabbing the door knob behind me, I turned it and it closed softly. I was able to see my grandmother sitting next to a window with a blanket over her lap with the sun just now rising she said, “come sit next me.”   

As if reading my mind she asked, “What is the problem sweetie?” I hang my head and ask in low discouraged tone, “How did you come to believe that Jesus was raised from the dead?” She responded, “You got to believe with all your heart and know that the bible is the word of God.” Discouraged I say, “thanks grandma” and begin to get up thinking about cutting myself over the sink and the blood coming down my leg into the sink. Grandma said to me,” “Sweetheart, I’m not done.” I perked up with the thought of more information being given to me. With a bit of eagerness, I sat back down waiting for her to tell me the next thing. She continues, “You also have to understand what it means to believe with all your heart.” Grandma then does something weird, she takes a cup that she has in her hand, and grabs dirt out of her indoor plant’s pot.  Then puts the dirt in the cup and mixes it with some water. I looked at her with a smile wondering what she is doing. While staring she suddenly throws the mud mixture out of cup onto window, the mud now draining down the window. 

Surprised, I leaned back asking her, “Grandma, why did you do that, now the window is dirty?” The grandma says,” Is it clean” I respond, “No, it’s not clean, it’s dirty.” “Okay”, she says.  She grabs the blanket on her lap, wipes off some of dirt and ask, “Is the window clean?” I said, “No.” 

She says, “Okay.” Then she begins to wipe it off again leaving a little on the window. Again, she asked me, “Is the window clean” I respond, “Well, kinda.” She says, “Sweetie, is the entire window clean, yes or no?” I said, “No, it’s still not clean.”

 And then she wipes all the remaining mud off the window. She asked me, “Is the window clean?” Looking at it, I check to make sure, so I am not told I’m wrong again, I say, “Yes.” She then says, “Your doubt in your mind is like the mud on that window.  When I asked you if it was clean, you obviously saw that it was not clean.  Your doubts can be like mud on a window of your belief in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.  When I asked you wavered in your thinking saying,”  ‘it’s kinda clean’ I asked you to be sure and you made up your mind and you said it was not clean. But when I wiped it entirely cleaned, it was evident, and you believed that window was clean. Sweetheart, that’s what you have to do with your belief in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. I don’t know what dirt you have in your mind that’s stopping you from believing but it’s up to you to clean off whatever is there so that you can clearly see your thoughts about it.” 

“But grandma where do I start?” I replied.   She sits back down in her chair and folds the dirty blanket up.  Taking a deep breath and exhaling she ask, “Do you believe that Jesus was raised from the dead?” I hesitated to answer. She said, “Sweetie, answer honestly.” I said, “No, grandma I don’t, but the Bible says he did.”

 She then says, “Sweetie, I have an apple pie sitting on the counter, I walk away from it, I come back to it and the pan pie is empty. Someone left a note that said a dog came in, ate the food, and left. Would you believe it?” I respond, “I’d have a hard time believing it, but I think it’s possible.”  “Okay”, says my grandma. She continues, “How would you show someone else that the dog ate that food?”  I say, I would need some type of evidence that shows that it was a dog and no one else. 

 “Okay,” says grandma. “What would you start with?” I respond, “The note stating that the dog ate the food”. “Okay,” she says, “Well, the Bible is a historical note that was written by people that witnessed Jesus having been raised from the dead.” 

Grandma said, “But you still were hesitant to believe so what else would you do to help someone understand that the dog ate the pie.” Smiling and enjoying the illustration, I say, “Well, I would want to know that the note was real and not written by somebody telling me a joke.”  “Okay” says grandma, “How would you do that?”  I say, “maybe look for a signature or someone’s name.” “Okay, grandma says. Well, the gospels have in a figurative sense the fingerprint or signature of Jesus.  That is, he fulfilled many actions about himself that where foretold hundreds of years before his birth.” 

Grandma continues, “What else would help you believe?”  I say, “perhaps I’d want to find the dog. “Unfortunately,” says the grandmother, in this case, the dog was a stray and is nowhere to be found. Similarly, we cannot see Jesus to ask him about the resurrection. Despite that you still must believe that he was resurrected.”  

“Okay”, I said, sitting back thinking what else I needed to understand. I continued trying to answer, “I would want to see if other people saw the dog eating the pie.” My grandma said, “Well, in the Bible it says there where 500 witnesses, to be exact, that saw Jesus after his resurrection. There are also other people outside of that group that were around Jesus or knew of Jesus around his time of life. With all those people would you believe?  Do you think that will be enough to know the truth?”  Now, with wide eyes and eagerness grandma ask, “What more would want to see?” I said, “I would want to know if there’s still some leftover crumbs.”  Grandma replies, “Okay well, in the Bible you have something like breadcrumbs.  You can think about how the fact that Jesus really was resurrected because there was an empty tomb. Plus, there are other writers of that time that say Christians believed in Jesus to the extent that they would die for Christ.” 

 Now, trying to think critically and fully locked into the talk stated, “I noticed that you keep using the scriptures to prove that Jesus was resurrected because it points to how Jesus was resurrected in the text. Grandma responds, “Yes, you’re right.” I continue, “But how can you say that these things are true when you’re using the source to say that it’s true? Grandmother smirks and replies, “Sweetheart, you must understand that this is a book of historical documents, consider Albert Einstein. Do you have any doubt that Albert Einstein existed, most people say no? Consider Abraham Lincoln, do you doubt that he existed, most people say no?  Have you heard of someone named Aristotle?” Eger to respond I interjected, “I’ve heard of him in school he was some guy that did philosophy.” My grandmother replied, “That’s right but why do you think people believe he is a real person and has actual writings?

I say, “Well, they read some stuff he wrote.”  Grandma, now slightly laughing, says, “Okay, and how did they come to trust that he wrote it?”  I reply, “They have read what he wrote, or somebody wrote about his writings.” Grandma nods her head and continues to question me, “How many documents did he write? I replied, “two, I don’t know.” Grandma sits up in her chair and says, “It has been reported that there are 49 copies.” Surprised I say, “that is lot!”  Grandma now pushing her glasses up on to her nose continues, “And from those 49 copies how do they know what is the original?” Assuming I do not know the answer, grandmother does not let me attempt to answer the question.  She says, “If they were to take one copy of a document and compare it to 99 other copies some with grammar errors, some with spelling errors, and missing words, do you think people could piece together an accurate, consistent copy?”  “That seems reasonable”, I say. 

“All right”, says her grandma. Then continues, “How many copies of the New Testament have been found?”   I answer, “perhaps 50.” Grandma leans toward me and says, “over 24,000 in various languages^[1].” There are also philosophical arguments that show, reasonably, that Jesus was raised from the dead. Additionally, there is historical information that points to the fact that Jesus was raised from the dead. 

My grandma continues,“But sweetheart even with all these various, pie crumb, evidences that show that the pie was indeed eaten by the dog, you have to see the doubts that are preventing you from seeing clearly the truth. It is like knowing there is still mud on the window. Also, once you have wiped away the, mud, doubts you have to make a choice as to whether you whole heartedly believe in the resurrection of Jesus or not.” 

 I sat back amazed at the huge pile of evidence to help me see clearly. All of a sudden, I jumped as if shocked by static electricity and asked my grandma, “How did you come to learn all these things?”  She responds, “I was like you, and I had many questions and doubts that I had to answer.” Then she did something that I’ve never seen her do.  Grandma rolled up her pants leg revealing the back of her calf, there were tones of straight lines on her flesh like mine. “Grandma,” I say with in sober tone. Grandma soberly responds, “I used to be so depressed because of what I was going through. I didn’t want to keep living and I thought that I couldn’t find an answer, but someone helped me and I want to help you.”  I soberly say, “I never knew grandma!”  As grandma rolled down her pants leg, she stat back in her rocking chair. She said looking out the window, “Make sure you clear away the mud, look for all the breadcrumbs you need to believe with all your heart that Jesus was raised, and that the Bible is the word of God.” Getting up I hugged grandma, and a tear came down as I said, “I will grandma.” 

Over the next few weeks, I searched diligently with my grandmother’s help, finding resources and sources slowly building to have faith in Jesus’s resurrection. Seeing and hearing the mountain of evidence helped me clearly see the truth, so I asked my dad to baptize me. Shocked and surprised at my seemingly sudden desire, he questioned me for many hours that day.  Thankfully, I was ready to give a defense for my belief in Jesus Christ.   

As a result of my submission to the will of God. I could go to school ready to suffer for my beliefs.  I not only prayed before meals, despite still being called offensive names, but looked for others who were struggling, disheartened, discouraged, and frustrated.  Moreover, I stopped cutting myself, started a suicide watch at school, and began leading people to the resurrected Jesus.  Even more, I stopped cutting myself because I realized that he already bled for me and my responsibility now was to live for him.  Hebrews 11:6 says and without faith it is impossible to please him for he comes to God must believe that he is and he is a rewarder of those who seek him.

As the author of this message, I would like you to consider some concluding thoughts. All facts to show why a person should believe the bible are true and can be accessed by a diligent person wanting to find the truth. 

Recall what you went through to come to believe in Jesus. Perhaps, it was due to people wrapping themselves around you and showing you the love of God. Perhaps, you studied looking to understand and illuminate for yourself the resurrection of Jesus. Even more, perhaps, you believe because your family believed. 

There are many reasons people have for believing in Jesus Christ. However, no matter which one you are, you must come face-to-face with the reality that you must believe that Jesus was raised from the dead. 

I encourage you to look at what the scripture says about the significance of believing that Jesus was raised from the dead.  In 1st Corinthians 15:1-19 Paul talks about the truth of Jesus resurrection, “Now if Christ is preached, that He has been raised from the dead, how do some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? But if there is no resurrection of the dead, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is vain, your faith also is vain. Moreover, we are even found to be false witnesses of God, because we testified against God that He raised Christ, whom He did not raise, if in fact the dead are not raised. For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised; and if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless; you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied. But now Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who are asleep.” 

Paul also leads us to see the scriptures, our bible, as declaring the truth about the resurrection.  1 Corinthians 15:1-8 Now I make known to you, brethren, the gospel which I preached to you, which also you received, in which also you stand, by which also you are saved, if you hold fast the word which I preached to you, unless you believed in vain. For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received, that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. After that He appeared to more than five hundred brethren at one time, most of whom remain until now, but some have fallen asleep; then He appeared to James, then to all the apostles; and last of all, as to one untimely born, He appeared to me also.”

The statement that Paul makes is either true or not true, there is no middle ground.  The question is do you recognize them as true.  If you have any doubts around that question I’d encourage you to seek an answer so that you can have full assurance in your own heart that Christ was raised from the dead.

^[1] https://noapologizing.wordpress.com/2011/01/21/more-reliable-aristotle-or-the-new-testament/