Tell me your story.
Or sit in silence.
Ask your questions.
Or weep and gnash your teeth.
Your grief is real and deep.
And may look very different than your neighbor’s grief that is real and deep too.
When Lazarus died there were Marys.
Family members, friends, and strangers.
He showed up later than some wanted him to show up.
Yet he showed up.
A miracle unfolded.
Today I pray for a miracle.
I’m not expecting a miracle in the way it happened then.
I’m praying for a changed life within me.
A changed life that holds the tension of death with the power of resurrected life.
A changed life that more fruit will come than could ever be imagined because of seeds that have been planted.
With every story I hear of a life that has been impacted by only one person, I pray God will give a double portion to each of us of wisdom, strength, team work, compassion, grace, forward thinking, love and humor that has been expressed and experienced.
Together, maybe we move the chains, break the chains, reframe the chains. Maybe the horrible, agonizing chains of illness and death are an invitation to be set free for something we can’t yet imagine.
Today I hear,
This is my body broken for you.
This is my love poured out for you.