Slowly we walked back home from the Easter sunrise service. We looked forward to this annual event on the lawn of the church where my husband was minister. This year the beauty was too lovely to leave. 

The glorious day of resurrection of our Lord Jesus began on a chilly, cloudy morning, but  eventually sunshine had spread it's rays across the sky. We praised God for His creation and for the joy of resurrection.

We did not know that grief was only moments away. A few hours away, my sister Margaret, had just returned from the sunrise service at a beach near her home in Virginia.

The ocean and the sands of the beach were favorite places for her. She had once told me the title of her book she planned to write would be Footprints in the Sand. But she never got to write that book. Some of her last earthly footprints were in the sand on that beach. 

When she arrived back at her home, she had a heart attack and fell to the floor. When her body was quickly discovered by her family there was confusion and crying.

There was more confusion and crying when her husband called our house and said, "Margaret is gone". My first question was, "Gone where?" Then he told us the shocking news.

What does one do when death comes so quickly? Without the knowledge that in Jesus Christ there is no death, the response would be bathed in hopelessness and despair.

A sudden death of a loved one is heartbreaking. But the Christian believes that life is eternal. When the body dies and we leave this earth we go to a greater Home - face to face with the God who created us. 

When my husband and I heard the news about my sister on that bright and beautiful Easter morning, I was preparing to teach Sunday School and his sermon would proclaim the glory of the resurrection. We knew that Margaret was an active Christian and God had received her life into her heavenly home.

Tears flowed from my eyes as I told our sons and my mother. She had never visited in our home during Easter. It was very good to have her with us at  this particular time. I taught my Sunday School class .We cried together as I  shared memories of my sister. Their loving prayers brought comfort.

That morning, I chose to sit in the congregation and not to sing in the choir. It was restful to sit on the soft cushions of the pew. The picture on the front of my bulletin showed radiant sunshine bursting onto the open tomb of Jesus. The words "He Is Risen" brought peace to my heart as I wrote a capital "S" before the word "He". There was no doubt that my sister had also risen.