The end of the story

Distractions.
Hurting.
Loneliness.
Grieving.
Wholeness.
Healing.
Glory.

These are some of the topics that have been pried to the surface of my thinking lately.

Sunday morning I felt drawn back to NEC and was surprised to learn that they were having a kids program in place of the regular service. Kids Zone was a place that I personally taught for about a year and a half, and loved it, so I prepared to be blessed.

Some of the current teachers did a skit about a laboratory and they floated an egg in saltwater, demonstrating what happens when we add God’s word to our lives. We are lifted. In the same way, Lazarus was raised from the dead when Jesus called the command.

Then they acted out the story of Lazarus. It was cute and comical with adult humor and contemporary wit, but I may be the only one out of that huge congregation who cried.

In the middle of it, when Martha came to Jesus’ feet crying, "If only you had been here, Lord, he wouldn’t have died!" And the words reached into my deepest wounds like tiny claws and made me bleed again.

Oh God! I know that argument. I know too well how it feels to ask that why and not understand it all. Why did you stay where you were for two more days, Lord? Tears came quickly then. Again, Mary came to Jesus and repeated the anguished cry, IF ONLY you had come sooner, Lord! Even he wept, which touches me deeply. Yes, I have my resident "if only" in the back room of my heart.

Then I was struck again with the poignant beauty of the rest of the story when they moved to the part about going to the tomb. Lazarus had been dead four days and the women argued, Lord, he’s dead and this stinks! (my paraphrase)

But another line was added to the drama on stage when I felt the Lord speaking again to my soul. Jesus’ answer, at least the way I heard it went like this… “This story isn’t going to end in death, but in GLORY! Remember, I’m not finished yet.”

Yes, and what a wonderful, refreshing, dynamic truth. THIS STORY doesn’t end in death! We go on to glory! Even before we leave this body, this planet, the whole theme of creation is to show forth the glory of God. God wants me to focus on the ultimate glory even in the silence, even in that transition period before he returns.

Whether it’s four days as it was for Martha and Mary, or four years, or forty more years… He’s going to show up again and call our names with power and authority! He will loose the grave clothes and truly, finally, we will be set free. The trump will resound and we will all be raised! Hooray! He’s told us ahead of time so that we can hang onto the promise and wait in hope. We don’t have to grieve in the darkness of despair, like those who have no hope.

Until that day, I will bring my questions and complaints to Him because I KNOW he loves me still. He knows my pain, feels my sorrow, and doesn’t condemn it. I remember how even he cried from the cross, "FATHER! WHY hast thou forsaken me?"

In the same way, he beckons me to pour out my inner anguish, surprisingly fresh even with the passing of time. It’s been the hardest, the deepest loss I have ever felt, but I know, I know, I know that glory will come of it.

I stood outside very late last night and again the Lord reminded me of his presence. All I did was stand there in the driveway in front of my darkened empty house and look at the stars.

Isn’t there a message for the listening heart in the beauty of the skies? It’s as natural as breathing. When we’re in the deepest, darkest part of night, and everything is clothed in shadow, we turn our eyes upwards to the heavenlies. We are drawn to the glimmering of the distant lights. They sparkle in silence, while the moon reflects a hidden sun.

The Lord seemed to whisper the reminder once again. "Karen, there is more to come! This story will end in glory! Remember, I’m not finished yet!"