Monday, April 2, 2012

Martha

MARTHA

I had thought I would be angry. I wasn't. I had thought I would be bitter. I wasn't.

I wonder if I had known I believed in Him, truly and absolutely. As not just my friend the Teacher and sometime rabble-rouser Jesus. As the true Son of God. I wondered, from time to time, how deep my faith went. If that was why I was afraid to come out of the kitchen and sit, just sit, at His feet. That was when I knew. My faith ran deep. I couldn't tell you when it even happened, but that was when I knew it had.

"Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now, I know that whatever you ask of God, He will give you."

He chose not to come. For whatever reason. So often I did not understand Him, the things He said. Mary came closer. Perhaps she would understand more, but I knew in that moment that I was strong enough to accept. I had always been the strong one, bearing the burdens of this world as best I could. Bearing as much of others' loads as I could.

But I didn't know how strong I was, how much I could bear, until that moment. Until I stood before my God and could say it. You chose that my brother should die. I believe in You, I hope in You. You know better than I.

"Your brother will rise."

"I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day."

In my eagerness to show Him, Jesus who already knew, I had mistaken once again. Always too eager to speak to listen, as Mary did.

“I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?”

I think before Lazarus died I might have quibbled over the language, demanded it make more intrinsic sense. But now I knew. Now I knew how deep my faith went. Now I knew how deep my love went.

So I said simply, “Yes Lord, I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.”