Coming Home for Easter

There’s something unforgettable about coming home. If you’ve ever left for college, a job, or a new season of life, you know what I mean. That moment when you walk back into that familiar space—smells, sounds, memories all flooding back—it stirs something deep inside.

Unless, of course, your parents move and forget to tell you. That actually happened to me once. I pulled up to the old house, only to find it empty. Lights off. Doors locked. No one there. I had to track down a friend of the family just to find out where they’d gone.

It’s funny now, but it reminds me of something bigger: coming home only works if you know where home really is. And Easter is all about that.

But not the kind of home you drive to. Not a house on a street with a mailbox and a porch light. No—Easter is about coming home to Jesus. Easter is about the One who walked out of the grave so you could walk into new life.

In Luke 24, a few faithful women show up to a tomb expecting death. They bring spices, not confetti. They expected to see a corpse. But instead of a body, they find an angel who says: “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here. He is risen.”

The tomb wasn’t empty so Jesus could get out—it was empty so you could “come in”. Come into grace. Come into peace. Come into life.

A lot of us live like the tomb is still sealed. We say we believe in the resurrection, but we make decisions like Jesus isn’t alive. We stress like we’re alone. We plan like He’s not in the room. Are you living as if Jesus is alive?

Jesus didn’t rise so we could dabble in faith. He rose so we could be united with Him. Not just believe in Him—but belong to Him. Your old life—your shame, your secrets, your sin—was nailed to the cross. And your new life walked out of the tomb with Him.

You’re not just invited to visit faith. You’re called to live in it.

Jesus Is the Way Home. In John 14, Jesus says something bold: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” That’s not arrogance. That’s clarity. Jesus doesn’t point toward the path—He is the path.

Easter is Jesus standing at the door of your heart—not asking for a visit, but asking for YOU. Maybe you’ve known about Jesus. You’ve admired Him from a distance. You’ve done the church thing. But your heart’s been somewhere else.

Today, come home. Not halfway. All the way. Come home to grace. Come home to peace. Come home to the One who died for you.

Because the tomb is still empty. The invitation is still open. And the Father’s arms are still wide. Give Him your heart. Jesus didn’t bleed out so you could stay casual. He rose so you could come home.

Have a Blessed Easter!

Larry