Rise

Rise
Image by denkendewolke from Pixabay

When she stood to her feet, suddenly everything became clear. Chains began to drop. Labels from others began to disintegrate.

She faced the wind and her soul was strong.

Her name is Mary. Mary rose. She rose because He called her name. Jesus called out to her. This was it. That moment was the one she waited on. The moment she knew her name was spoken from his lips she responded. 

She struggled as she carried the basket of brokenness with her as she went to meet with Jesus. The disappointment of Lazarus’s death was more than she could take. (John 11) She wasn’t like Martha, now, mind you, she didn’t judge her sister she just wasn’t wired that way.

I, Mary need time. I need to think. I need to wail. I need to wrestle my heart to the ground to comprehend what just happened.

I replay over and over again Lazarus’s sickness. The chaos around it. The words that stung so deeply about what might happen to him.

When things are painful, I put a spin on words in my own mind. Some call it coping, I call it survival.

I visit memories like they are a coffee shop open for business. Some say this isn’t healthy but I must sort to discard and sort to collect. I don’t really compartmentalize. I just must look at them to know, to know what is real. To know what to feel and process.

I decided to feel because I am alive and God is good. Yes, He is good when things turn bad.

He is light when things seem so dark. He is kind, even in the face of others who are so mean.

This world is crazy and they smack God. My heart breaks and the truth is I sometimes wanna throw rocks at them.

I don’t know why though. In my own struggle with doubt and unbelief, it hasn’t been a smack to God, but I sometimes think it has been a sting to his heart. After all, He has done for me the sting in his heart is still my wandering-ness. My majoring in minor trivial things.

Like a kid wandering off I get my head stuck in the clouds.

Let’s ponder on the new word I just made up. Wanderingness.

If I was gonna describe it it would be this. Wanderingness- distracted, lacking focus, curious about things that don’t matter, overthinking everything. Looking outside for what can only be found inside.

Why are we humans so prone to wander?

I sometimes despise my humanness but  I am grateful because God doesn’t want a robot.

 He wants real-life Mary’s who shock you with their candidness. No punches pulled, whatcha see is whatcha get kind of girl. Straight to the point. No mincing of words. She wandered in her weariness of grief.

 Grief worn long enough and not processed will cause you to wander off the ancient path of what you know and have been taught.


Mary had deep despair and yet, Mary had intimacy with God. Her relationship was not made up of lists and rules with him. It was an abiding love she had with him. 

She needed to take time away when Lazarus died. She needed to sob, to get a hold of herself and somehow connect all of the dots.

It reminds me so much of my own walk with God. I sure could relate to Mary when I lost my brother to suicide. The whole thing felt surreal. I remember being in shock, thinking I have to make sure my parents are okay.

Not sure what I would’ve done without my church family. Their prayers and presence carried us through. Church becomes Jesus with skin on during times of crisis. 

After the funerals, yes there were two because our hometown was in Illinois where He would be buried, I remember feeling abandoned, alone and depressed. It would be close to a year before I could look at any pictures of my brother. I just remember thinking, Lord why?

Mary’s bleeding heart needed space. My bleeding heart also needed space when I lost my brother. Space and time. Breathing room to turn inward not in self-seeking but in self-evaluating what just happened.

My Lord is and was and will be my everything. He is the same consistent love. I am not fooled by the lies of the enemy or how the world tries to paint him and the church negatively. 

Lies will drop like chains if you don’t put your hand out for the invitation to agree with them. 



Your hands are not cuffed, they are free to lift in praise to the one you understand and misunderstand.

He is good. He is always good. I have hidden his word in my heart that I might not sin against him as Psalm 119 says. 

When life throws dark darts at you, I can choose to dodge them, be pinned by them or capture them and throw them back forcefully. Your arrows are sharp in the hearts of your enemy. Never underestimate how sharp they are.


Your capturing of these darts and redirecting them back to the pits of hell where they came from will keep your mind sound. Mine your mind. Be selective about what gets planted there.


You have been given the authority over every tactic of the enemy. Use the weapons. Your weapons are not fleshly, they are mighty through God to demolish strongholds and every high thing that sets itself up against God. ( 2 Corinthians 10:4-5)

Be strong and continue to rise.

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