I feel like I am dragging.
Dragging this huge bag around full of frustrations and hurts and wounds and so much junk.
I keep looking up to heaven and asking Him to take it.
All the while I keep stuffing it full of more and more.
Then I read in John of Mary and Martha. Oh, so encouraging to see women so close to Jesus whose mouths speak such nonsense. Just. like. mine.
Lazarus is dead. They are frustrated. Do they carry around a “bag” like mine? Stuffing it full until the Lord comes near so they can dump it on Him?
Jesus does come and they open up their mouths wide with words. Oh such words.
“Where have you been?” they cry
“Why weren’t you here?
“He wouldn’t have died had you been here!”
All these pent up frustrations. All these moments of wanting Him to see them.
But not realizing that He does see them.
He knows the silly things they keep stuffing.
And he wants them to toss it all out onto Him.
So, He weeps.
He weeps for the loss of the one they loved.
The one He loved.
He weeps for the words that these women threw all over Him.
And then He speaks.
He opens His mouth and He tells them what to do.
And what do these crazy women do?
They argue with Him, with Him of all people! The Lord of Heaven.
And yet He is still gentle and patient with these women whose mouths speak foolishness and hurt.
And even despite their disbelief, they obey.
And out walks the impossible.
Because this is what God does.
He moves rocks.
He asks us to do crazy things.
He takes all the bags of frustrations off of us.
He lets us dump everything out onto Him.
And even in the midst of all our stupidity…
all of our crazy words and disbelief.
He wakes the dead.