It’s Easter Sunday, but not everyone knows it yet. Two disciples are walking away from Jerusalem—away from hope, away from the cross, and they think, away from Jesus. Their hearts are heavy, their faces downcast. They had dared to believe that Jesus was the one to redeem Israel. And now… it’s all gone.

But then a stranger joins them. Someone they don’t recognize. And this is where we pause, because Luke tells us: “Jesus Himself came near and walked with them, but they were kept from recognizing Him.”

That’s the detail we usually skim over. But let’s sit with it: Jesus was there all along. In their confusion. In their heartbreak. In their disappointment. And they had no idea.

Why would God do that? Why would He let them stay in the dark?

Because sometimes what we need more than answers is Presence. Sometimes we need a God who walks beside us in our grief before He reveals Himself in glory.

Jesus listens first. That’s astonishing. He, the risen King, the conqueror of death, listens to them—two confused disciples explaining theology to God Himself. He doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t correct them on the spot. He walks. He hears. He honors their pain.

And only after walking with them, teaching them, letting their hearts burn with something they don’t yet understand—only then, in the simple act of breaking bread, does Jesus reveal who He is.

Then He vanishes.

Why?

Because the point was never to keep their eyes on the physical Jesus. The point was to show them: I am with you, even when you don’t see me.

Friends, some of us are walking through confusing, heartbreaking seasons. We’ve left our Jerusalem. We had hoped. We prayed. And now, we wonder where God is.

But what if He’s been walking beside you the whole time?

Easter reminds us that God’s greatest work often happens in disguise. Not in fireworks and fanfare, but in the breaking of bread. In quiet conversations. In the slow burn of hope returning.

He hasn’t left you. He hasn’t forgotten. And just like those disciples, your eyes will be opened—but probably not how you expect.

So keep walking. Keep sharing. Keep breaking bread. You may just realize, in hindsight, what they did:

“Were not our hearts burning within us… while He talked with us on the road?”

He was there.
He is here.
He always will be.