Excuse me Jesus…I, Mary should show you where we laid him?
You came to our house without invitation; you went as far as bringing along an entourage whenever it caught your fancy and each time, we gave you five-star treatment. I sat at your feet and soaked in every word you said even when others thought you were old school and boring. Obviously you forgot my alabaster box and the day I wiped your feet with my hair.
For the first time I needed you…Jesus I mean, I needed you and what did you do? You bailed out on me! I saw you come through for others; you healed the blind, the deaf, the lame and most of them didn’t have any meaningful relationship with you. When it was my turn for a miracle you pulled a disappearing act.
Seriously Jesus…I don’t believe we are even having this conversation. My brother, who you claimed you loved, was ill and I sent an SOS to you …what did you do? You wondered off to God-knows- where then wondered in after an eternity and expect me to pretend that you are concerned.
Seated by his sick bed, I looked up each time I heard foot falls hoping it was you. Gradually, my brother slipped into a coma but I still hoped that you would come befor it was too late. The worst finally happed…he died!
With all your love talk, I thought his death would stir your milk of compassion but who am I kidding? A condolence visit was too much to ask for. At the wake keep, I kept looking at the entrance, expecting you to walk in at any moment and raise my brother but of course I was setting up myself for another round of disappointment.
If there were one person I was very certain would be holding my hand by the grave side; I would have sworn it would be you. I wept, lamented, wished I were dead but received no comfort. As if my loss were not bad enough, I had to deal with the sniggers and mockery of neighbors, who were asking where my Jesus was in all this.
You did not come for a hospital visit, you did not pay me a condolence visit, you did not honour my brother at the wake keep and you did not as much as dignify him with a good bye during the internment and now you want to know where we buried him? Seriously Jesus; are you for real?
Above would have been my reaction if I were Mary because; given the incidence, Jesus appeared super insensitive but, things are not always the way they seem. Jesus simply wanted to show Mary, through a first-hand experience, a side of Him that she was not acquainted with.
She knew Him as a carpenter, a friend, a healer, a comforter and a teacher but had not experienced Him as the One with resurrection power.
He doesn’t resurrect cold-blue issues only; He also resurrects cold-blue, tied-up, nailed-down- in- a- casket, buried and stinking ones. Just show Him where you buried it.
John 11
You came to our house without invitation; you went as far as bringing along an entourage whenever it caught your fancy and each time, we gave you five-star treatment. I sat at your feet and soaked in every word you said even when others thought you were old school and boring. Obviously you forgot my alabaster box and the day I wiped your feet with my hair.
For the first time I needed you…Jesus I mean, I needed you and what did you do? You bailed out on me! I saw you come through for others; you healed the blind, the deaf, the lame and most of them didn’t have any meaningful relationship with you. When it was my turn for a miracle you pulled a disappearing act.
Seriously Jesus…I don’t believe we are even having this conversation. My brother, who you claimed you loved, was ill and I sent an SOS to you …what did you do? You wondered off to God-knows- where then wondered in after an eternity and expect me to pretend that you are concerned.
Seated by his sick bed, I looked up each time I heard foot falls hoping it was you. Gradually, my brother slipped into a coma but I still hoped that you would come befor it was too late. The worst finally happed…he died!
With all your love talk, I thought his death would stir your milk of compassion but who am I kidding? A condolence visit was too much to ask for. At the wake keep, I kept looking at the entrance, expecting you to walk in at any moment and raise my brother but of course I was setting up myself for another round of disappointment.
If there were one person I was very certain would be holding my hand by the grave side; I would have sworn it would be you. I wept, lamented, wished I were dead but received no comfort. As if my loss were not bad enough, I had to deal with the sniggers and mockery of neighbors, who were asking where my Jesus was in all this.
You did not come for a hospital visit, you did not pay me a condolence visit, you did not honour my brother at the wake keep and you did not as much as dignify him with a good bye during the internment and now you want to know where we buried him? Seriously Jesus; are you for real?
Above would have been my reaction if I were Mary because; given the incidence, Jesus appeared super insensitive but, things are not always the way they seem. Jesus simply wanted to show Mary, through a first-hand experience, a side of Him that she was not acquainted with.
She knew Him as a carpenter, a friend, a healer, a comforter and a teacher but had not experienced Him as the One with resurrection power.
He doesn’t resurrect cold-blue issues only; He also resurrects cold-blue, tied-up, nailed-down- in- a- casket, buried and stinking ones. Just show Him where you buried it.
John 11
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