His mother stood at a distance, watching as his body was taken down from the cross and wrapped in a finely woven linen shroud. As the sturdy white fabric enveloped his lifeless remains, she strained to look upon her Son one last time. His head and body already covered by the cloth, all that remained visible were his once powerful hands. Like a snapshot frozen in time, they revealed the intensity of the suffering he had endured.

Rigid and stiff, they lay folded across his chest, contorted fingers clenched tight. Just above the wrists, unbearably large gashes could be seen – the places where the nails had ripped holes in his flesh. The deep, dark red of the wounds looked all the more shockingly real against the impressive whiteness of the burial cloth.

Consumed with sorrow, grief and pain, Mary turned away from the dreadful image, certain those nails had ruined her life. Life, you see, doesn’t always turn out the way you might expect.

Just a few days before, everything had been so different. Riding confidently into town, seated on a donkey, thousands of people had waved palm branches and cheered his name. With great enthusiasm, they cried aloud, "Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest"

The excitement, the energy, the passion for her Son was like nothing she had ever seen. For the first time in her life, she dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, he might be the long awaited king who would return Israel to the great nation she once had been. For the first time in her life, she dared to believe her deepest hopes and dreams might actually come true.

But then suddenly, right when she thought things were changing for the better, he was betrayed, arrested, and put on trial. Then he was nailed to that terrible cross. Her hopes and dreams now shattered, she had nothing left except that haunting image of those stiff and rigid hands, the unbearably large gashes, the deep dark red of those wounds.

Those nails had completely ruined her life. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you might expect.

The older you get, the more you discover how true that statement is. The excitement, the energy, the wonder you experience as a child slowly fades away. When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Will Robinson on "Lost in Space," hopping around uncharted galaxies and about every other episode, saving the day. Instead you end up with the mundane routine of bills, work, and family obligations. As you grow up, it becomes obvious that for most of us, the hopes and dreams of your youth never quite seem to be fulfilled.

We spend our lives thinking, if only my marriage were a little bit better. If only I could make just a little more money. If only my children were a little bit more successful and financially secure. If only I were just a little more attractive. If only, if only, – then I would be happy. Then I would finally be content.

But all too often, loving marriages grow cold, exciting careers turn dull, gifted children lose their way, and youthful, attractive bodies grow old, fat and wrinkled. And then, like some kind of cruel joke, tragedy strikes. Suffering, disease, and death disrupt our humdrum lives, waking us from our slumber and feelings of security, causing us to cry out in despair.

Why God? Why would you allow this to happen? Why does life always have to be so full of pain and sorrow and heartache and hurt? Why does sin, why does human nature have to creep in and taint everything that seems so good? In pain we ask God "why?" to stuff that probably can’t be answered this side of eternity. These are the ultimate questions we all must face.

These are the ultimate questions that can only be understood in the light of the cross of Jesus Christ. For as we will soon celebrate at the end of this Holy Week, a few days after he died, Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to his disciples in the Upper Room where they had been hiding. His mother Mary was there as well.

Strong and full of life, Jesus raised his arms into the air, hands wide open, inviting all to see. Incredibly, just above both wrists, the large gashes left by the nails could still be seen, except now they somehow – looked beautiful.

Filled with wonder, joy, and awe, Mary stared at those wounds, realizing in that moment that those nails hadn’t ruined her life at all. Instead, those nails had saved her life.

On the day you stand before the Lord in glory, gazing upon those nail-scarred hands, you too, may realize that everything that you thought had ruined your life was actually used by God to save it. In that moment, everything that caused you pain and sorrow will not simply be forgotten, but will become for you an everlasting source of joy. Your cries of pain will one day be transformed into endless songs of praise.

For now, our sufferings may seem to foreshadow the undoing of everything we hope for. But since Christ bears those scars for us, through the cross, we can be confident that our present suffering will one day be transformed into everlasting joy.

Life, you see, doesn’t always turn out the way you might expect. Amen.