A cellar door opens slowly;
Sliver of Light shines in
The dust settles.
I breathe deep
And greet what I've long shut in; shoved down.
My breath catches in my throat
Fight or flight kicks in;
I consider fleeing...
He squeezes my hand, reminds me.
This is what You came for.
You never let go.
You don't patronize me
In my pain
My groaning, my inner agony turned outward grieving.
When those hurts I've kept under lockdown are spoken of; spoken about; spoken to; allowed out into the light.
You don't patronize me Jesus.
Forgive me for thinking You do.
Patronizing is disconnect;
Pat answers; "there there" without really being there.
It's a "catch up, already!" mentality
A hurriedness, impatience
Rather than a coming alongside
Being with me.
Being among Your people.
You don't patronize me.
When Lazarus died, You WEPT.
It wasn't for good show
You're not a drama queen.
It was because at the core of it all; I PICTURE that core
See it; don't deny it
There was loss
You can't get around emptiness, but you can fill it.
You, Jesus, can fill it.
And you did.
With Lazarus, You wept.
You didn't leave, scold, pity, check out
You wept. You stood. You spoke.
Lazarus, come forth!
Death before resurrection
That's the cycle; the schedule of events In life, inwardly and outwardly
To die so that we might live.
Sit in the dark with it 3 days, 3 nights
Passover the pain no more
And on the final day
Leave the grave clothes and grieving behind
And embrace Life.
You don't hurry me, Jesus.
You sit with me.
You weep with me.
And then you stand.
You say in a loud voice,
Be filled with Life abundant.
Hillary, come forth.
Redemption is always a miracle;
A changing of what couldn't be into what could.
Defying physics, intellect, understanding, human belief.
Redemption is what You do, Jesus.
Only You can fill the emptiness; bring Life to death.
You sit, you weep, you rise, and you redeem.