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Today's Lenten Devotion
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The Resurrection
Jesus said to her [Martha], "I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die."
-- John 11.25-26
Raising Lazarus from the dead was a defining moment for Jesus (not to mention Lazarus!)- but let’s face it, our experiences to date are "Martha Experiences" ... so we know Martha pretty well, some of us more than others. In this lifetime, we all are Martha in that story.
In my mother’s final days, I would regularly pray in the hospital chapel alone. One day, when I returned to her bedside, joining my siblings, she cried out to me, "I don’t think I’m going to make it. I don’t know what’s going to happen."
A lifetime of rehearsing an answer wouldn’t have prepared me for that moment. And yet, without hesitation, I found myself taking her hands in mine, leaning down, looking into her pleading eyes and calmly explaining exactly where she was going and who she would see there. To my surprise, the words flowed beautifully from my lips. Satisfied and comforted with the answer, she relaxed, and a peace came over her that allowed her to drift off for a catnap.
When I turned around, my siblings were all standing there with their mouths hanging open, wondering where that all came from. While I had recognized the sound of my own voice, I knew that the words had not come from me, but rather through me. Amazing grace! All of us were comforted by those words.
The day after her funeral, I was driving the car with my 7 year old son and his 6 year old cousin in the back seat. I overheard them discussing my mother and wondering if "Nannie" was an angel now, and they asked me about it. Again, I would have liked time to rehearse the Easter story to comfort these two grieving little boys that I love so much. Again, God gave me the words and all of us were comforted by them.
A couple months later, I received a bizarre call from the cemetery where my mother’s ashes were buried. My grandfather, long estranged from the family through his own choosing, had just discovered that my uncle had forged his name on the document which allowed my mother's ashes to be buried with her mother, as was her dying wish. He had ordered her immediate disinterment.
Though I lived the farthest away, I was being asked to come pick my mother up! I went, so wishing I really could "pick her up" and take her out for one more lunch together, but instead I returned home with a hermetically sealed, muddy granite box. To the dismay of my siblings, I named it "The Box" and referred to it that way in every ensuing conversation with them. After all, I knew she wasn’t in it. With all due respect, I cleaned The Box and placed it in the garden, among the blooming flowers until one day my brother asked if he could take it. I have no idea where The Box is today. I never remember to ask him, though I’ve always known where my mother is.
My mother was my best friend, so I can relate to Martha's pain in losing her brother, Lazarus. It is a breaking of the shell that encloses our understanding. I am learning that in every time and place when that shell breaks, Jesus is standing with us as He stood with Martha, also resurrecting us to a new life in that very moment ... a life of hope, comfort, joy and peace and granting us opportunities to share the Easter story with a new understanding.
Lord Jesus,
Grant us little Easters in this life, until that day when all the deaths that we have died and all the tears that we have shed are but a thimbleful in the ocean of grace that you are. Amen.
Linda S. Magill
lindabythesea@yahoo.com
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