Back to Bethany | Easter Reflection: Mary Magdalene

I’ve always been drawn to stories of strong women who rise from personal darkness—who wrestle with their past, overcome shame, and emerge as the women they were always meant to be. Women who live with kindness, compassion, and strength, unshaken by the judgments of others. Sound familiar? It should. It’s the story we’re given about Mary Magdalene.

Women hold a powerful role in Scripture. They were called to stand alongside the men God chose to lead His people. Think of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Rachel. In the New Testament: Zechariah and Elizabeth, Joseph and Mary. These partnerships reveal the beauty and complexity of faith, love, and obedience to God’s call. But Mary Magdalene’s story stands out—because she wasn’t introduced as someone’s wife or partner. She was introduced alone—and as a woman in pain.

The Bible tells us she had been delivered from seven demons. Some traditions also identify her as the woman caught in adultery. Yet she was the first person Jesus revealed Himself to after His resurrection. Not Peter. Not John. Mary Magdalene.

She met Jesus in her lowest place. And if we’re honest, we’ve all been there. Tangled in webs of shame, fear, regret—unsure of how to move forward. We retreat inward, convinced the light can’t possibly reach us there. But Jesus waits. And when we surrender—when we finally say “I trust You”—He’s there, ready to lift us out.

This Lent, I saw pieces of myself in Mary Magdalene’s story. There were times I didn’t feel worthy of forgiveness, of healing, of starting over. But like her, I found the courage to turn toward my Savior. Mary didn’t just meet Jesus once—she chose to continue her journey with Him. She walked with Him. She stood by Him when others fled. She was one of the first disciples, walking alongside the “boys,” even when she probably felt like an outsider. And she never let that stop her.

This Lent was the first time I truly prioritized prayer and reflection. I fasted not just from comforts but from distractions—anything keeping me from intimacy with God. I leaned into the ascesis—the spiritual training ground. In doing so, I uncovered the places I thought were strong… and realized how much I still needed Him.

Two words stood out to me: trust and surrender. I like to fix things. Maybe you do, too. I like to know the outcome, to feel like I’m in control. But Lent reminded me: healing doesn’t come from control. It comes from surrender. And often, our darkest moments are the very places where Jesus begins something new. They’re not the end—they’re the beginning.

As women, we’re sometimes labeled as too emotional or not emotional enough. Too passive or too loud. But our strength isn’t found in meeting the world’s expectations—it’s found in Christ. In our ability to nurture, to endure, to believe even when things look hopeless. These are sacred gifts, woven into our being by God Himself.

Mary Magdalene mourned for three days. And on the third day, in a quiet garden, Jesus appeared and called her by name. That same Jesus is calling us this Easter Sunday—by name.

We are never too far gone. We are never too broken. Just like Mary, we can be healed. And just like her, we can choose to follow Christ.