Because He is everywhere, He can always be found somewhere.
It was another day toward the end of Jesus’ three-year ministry on Earth. He and his disciples were on their way to Jerusalem. As they approached the towns of Bethphage and Bethany, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus instructed two of the disciples to go fetch him a donkey colt, which they would find tied there. It would be unbroken – had never been ridden. To whom it actually belonged, the scripture has left unclear, but when that person was told what Jesus had instructed his disciples to say, “The Lord has need of it,” he gave permission to untie and take it.
When the feisty colt was brought to Jesus, it was evident he planned to ride it. So they threw their garments over it and he did sit upon the back of the colt and he did ride. There you have it. An untied, unfettered picture of a miracle. A “stranger” freely giving up a potential beast of burden to two complete strangers without any question. Plus, the miracle of throwing garments, saddle-style, upon the back of an unbroken, stubborn donkey colt, and another unknown person mounted upon its back, riding amongst a gathering crowd, which crowd was making its noisy way toward the city of Jerusalem, leading the way with singing and shouting, strewing palm leaves, and proclaiming praises to God in the highest Heaven. This portion of scriptures could almost be a picture of any large group of believers gathered together in praise and worship: believers and unbelievers, all caught up in the moment, almost in one accord. In the center, somewhere, was Jesus, riding on the back of an unbroken colt, unaffected by the jostling and strident echoes of the throng.
I mentioned believers and unbelievers because, just a few days later, many of that same crowd were shouting a different message and singing a different song. Jesus was standing somewhere in a hall before Pilate, and shortly thereafter, hanging on a cross, in view of them, praying, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Possibly some of the crowd were remembering the times they were hungry and he fed them, thousands at a time, and he fed them with a little bread and a few fish. Perhaps they thought about the demon-possessed, scary man, whom Jesus found and healed. Then again, maybe they remembered Lazarus, raised from the dead. So many things could have come to the minds of some as they watched that day.
Where was the multitude on Resurrection Day? Enough were there to bear witness that it happened. How do I know He lives? He lives in my heart, and I am not the only one to find Him standing somewhere . You can know Him through prayer, and by the nail-prints in his hands.