He Is: The Story Behind Every Story

It’s Easter morning.

The dogs are lying on the veranda, half-asleep, their tails flicking now and then as the cool breeze brushes past. The sky is a quiet grey, and I can see the rain coming down the hillside in the distance—soft and slow, like a promise on its way. It’s not sunny. Not bright. But still, it feels holy. Like the kind of weather that makes you want to sit still and listen.

So I do.

I wrap myself in a sweater, pour a cup of tea, and settle into the quiet with a sermon I’ve been waiting all week to hear—Tim Keller’s “Jesus Vindicated.”

It’s the image I wasn’t expecting: Jesus standing trial in the eyes of the world. He was accused of blasphemy. Mocked. Rejected. Nailed to a cross. And yet, on Easter morning—He is vindicated. Not just brought back to life, Keller says, but declared right. The resurrection is God’s public announcement that Jesus was who He said He was. The Son. The Truth. The Way.

But then Keller does something that hits me in the chest—he quotes Calvin.

I wasn’t ready for the weight of it. I pause the sermon, rewind, and write the words down slowly. Because suddenly it’s not just a courtroom anymore. It’s the whole story. And Jesus is in every chapter.

“He is Isaac, the beloved Son of the Father, who was offered as a sacrifice, but nevertheless did not succumb to the power of death.
He is Jacob, the watchful shepherd, who has such great care for the sheep which He guards.
He is the good and compassionate brother Joseph, who in His glory was not ashamed to acknowledge His brothers, however lowly and abject their condition.
He is the great sacrificer and bishop Melchizedek, who has offered an eternal sacrifice once for all.
He is the sovereign lawgiver Moses, writing His law not on tablets of stone but on the hearts of His people.
He is the faithful captain and guide Joshua, to lead us into the promised land.
He is the victorious and noble king David, bringing to us all things necessary for the blessed life.
He is the strong and powerful Samson, who by His death has overwhelmed all His enemies.”
— John Calvin

I sit with those words, letting them wash over me like the rain beginning to touch the tin roof.

He is Isaac.
Not just a symbol of sacrifice—but the real thing.
He is Joseph.
Not just a story of rescue—but the Rescuer Himself.
He is David, Joshua, Moses, Samson—
not pointing toward the Messiah, but being Him all along.

And on this grey, quiet morning in Uganda, with rain falling gently on our roof and the dogs now curled tight in their corners, I remember why Easter changes everything.

Because Jesus didn’t just show up at the end.
He’s been here the whole time.

He is the thread that holds the story together.
He is the one every shadow pointed to.
He is the truth the grave could not silence.
He is the one who was condemned—and then vindicated.

And maybe this morning, you don’t feel Easter in your bones. Maybe the stories still feel far off. Maybe the world has felt too heavy to think about resurrection.

That’s okay.

Tim Keller says something bold in his sermon, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it:

“Truth is truth, whether we like it or not.”

Not everything depends on how we feel. Not even faith.
The resurrection either happened or it didn’t.
Jesus is either who He said He is — or He isn’t.

But if He is…

Then we’re not alone.
Then death is not the end.
Then love really does win.
Then grace is not a myth.
Then there is a way home, even for the most lost and tired among us.

You don’t have to figure it all out today. You don’t have to pretend to believe more than you do.
But you can whisper a question. You can lean in. You can walk a little closer.

Because if this is true — if Jesus really has been in the story all along —
Then Easter isn’t just the end of death.

It’s the beginning of hope.

He is.
He always was.
And He always will be.

Happy Easter — from our rainy hillside in Uganda to wherever you find yourself today.
You are not forgotten. The story isn’t over. And the truth… is still good.

With Love Dana