The First Gospel Missionary Was A Woman?

What Might've been Mary Magdalene's Post Resurrection Diary:

No one could ever understand. I tried to explain, but they just didn’t understand. All this time, then one day, I was looking for Him. Instead, He found me. I didn’t have to say a word to Him, and He knew that I couldn’t focus, couldn’t get anything done, no one trusted me, some say I was possessed with 7 demons. He asked me what I wanted, and I told him freedom, and it was done. Others, have been healed or set free. One woman had been bleeding for years. He raised a man from the dead. He has healed and delivered many people. Surely, He is the Messiah! The other women and I have followed Him for some time. Johanna, and Susanna and I have tended the fire, cooked the meals and cleaned his clothes. At least we bought and prepared food when Judas would give us from his precious pouch. The other day we were excited when we finally arrived in Jerusalem from Bethany. So many waved and laid palm branches before Him and shouted Hosanna!

Soon after that was when all the trouble began. Late one evening after He had eaten with the men, He went off to the garden to pray. He did that often late at night. Sometime late into the night, one of the men awakened us all to tell us He was arrested because of that…..that Judas! We all went to the temple the next morning and tried to follow what was going on, but it was all hush-hush, until……………Until Herod turned him over to Pilate. The next thing I knew……..He was standing there on the steps to the praetorium and everyone was shouting crucify him! Crucify him! I couldn’t believe my ears! The very same people who were in the streets waving palms and shouting Hosanna at the first of the week were now demanding His death. I didn’t understand how this could happen. Not only that, He had been beaten so that I nearly fainted at the sight of his torn body. The guards brought him down the street with a crown of thorns on his head and a cross over his back. The people in the streets taunted him with their jeers and spat on him. The guards seemed to enjoy what they were doing. When they reached the hillside, they nailed him to the cross he carried and lifted him up above the crowd for all to see. The other women and I wept and wept. I felt as if I had lost the one person who ever understood all that I had been and had given me the chance to become new. I thought I would die with him as I watched the life leave his body. The sky grew dark and my whole body shook so that I couldn’t stand. Some men took him down gently and carried him away. My friend. My master. My deliverer. My Lord…………….was dead and gone.

All night long I sat and wept until no more tears would come. The others grieved also. The air hung dampened by tears. The silence broken only by the sighs of broken hearts. I couldn’t sleep. Eventually, the others cried themselves to sleep. But for me sleep wouldn’t come. Tears wouldn’t come. My master wouldn’t come. What was to become of me. I had left everything I had ever known and followed him everywhere. Perhaps one of the other women would allow me to go with them the morning after the Sabbath. None of us would dare to travel now with all that had happened. There was no telling what the bloodthirsty temple guard might do if they caught one of us out. We just might be joining our Master’s fate.

The morning of the Sabbath, I still could not sleep well. I rose quickly and slipped out before anyone else to go to the tomb. It had been opened. I turned and saw one of the men coming and ran to tell him. Together we ran back but I was afraid to go in. The men went inside. They came out shaking their heads. “Nothing”, they said. My heart sank. Grave robbers must’ve taken our master’s body away. I was overwhelmed with sorrow and the tears came back in torrents. I raised my head to look inside and see for myself and there appeared as men I had never seen before in my life. They were bright and difficult to look upon. One of them asked me why I grieved so. I told them of My Lord’s body being taken. Then I turned and saw another man in the early morning mist of the garden and he asked me the same thing. I asked him if he had carried away my Lord’s body and he spoke to me calling me by my name, “Mary”. My heart leapt into my throat. Could it be? Is it……….It’s you! I cried. Master! Do not touch me Mary, He said. But go and tell the men you have seen me. Tell them I am going to be with my Father. Tell them He is their father also. And, he was gone from my sight. My feet barely touched the ground. When I got to the place where everyone had slept I pounded on the door until it nearly fell in. I couldn’t breath because I had ran so hard. In a moment or two I looked up at them between gasps and shouted HE HAS RISEN! I have seen him and spoken to him. HE HAS RISEN! And I slumped to the floor as tears of joy replaced the sorrows I had suffered for the past several days. My Lord Has Risen. I smiled at the thought as most of what he had taught us began to make sense now. Our Master was alive unlike all of the other gods we had ever worshipped in the past. We must tell everyone! Jesus is Alive!!!