What Have You Done With My Lord

Mary’s cry in Gospel of John 20:13 — “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him” — wasn’t just grief… it was love looking for presence. She wasn’t analyzing doctrine. She was aching for Him.
Mary’s heart broke when she saw the angels at Jesus’ tomb. She cried,
“What have you done with my Lord?”
And that same cry still echoes.
Not from a garden tomb,
but in the spirit—
groaning for an account of what we have done
with the blood of Jesus
and the salvation brought by it in the earth.
What have you done with my Lord?
What have we done with the blood that was shed?
What have we done with the life that was given?
What have we done with the power that was released?
Has it become language without life?
A message without transformation?
A remembrance without surrender?
The cross is spoken of—
but not always carried.
Salvation is declared—
but not always lived.
There is a grief in that question.
A holy weight.
Not harsh, but searching.
Not condemning, but calling.
Because the cry is not only about loss.
It is about recognition.
Mary thought He was gone.
But He was not gone.
He was standing right in front of her.
And everything changed
when He spoke her name.
“Mary.”
In a moment, grief gave way to revelation.
Confusion gave way to clarity.
Distance gave way to presence.
He had not been taken.
He had not been lost.
He was there all along.
And so the cry remains—
not only asking what has been done,
but inviting us to see again.
To return.
To recognize.
To respond.
Because what may feel lost in the earth
is always restored
in the one who hears His voice
and knows Him when He calls.
He still speaks.
He still reveals.
He still calls by name.
And the answer to the cry—
“What have you done with my Lord?”—
is found not in the crowd,
but in the moment
you recognize
He is standing before you.