Susan LaffertySo he built an altar there, called on the name of the Lord, and pitched his tent there. Isaac’s servants also dug a well there. [Genesis 26:25]
When Abraham or Isaac or Jacob moved to a new place, they did the necessary. Built an altar and worshiped the Lord their God. Pitched a tent and dwelled in the temporary place.
And dug a well. Dug deep. To tap into a source of water hidden beneath the ground.
Hidden behind clothes and toys, I giggled when I heard my mother calling and calling my name. I was around 4 years old. And I’d discovered a secret place in the depths of our walk-in closet. She called my name again. And again.
This was so much fun.
No one knew where I was.
As you can imagine, the end of that story was not funny at all. My mother was in tears and panicking. She thought I had wandered outside the gate of our home in Surabaya and been lost forever. This was a surprise to me. And the discipline that followed was, shall we say, memorable. The next time I listened when my parents called.
Waiting. Yesterday our pastor continued his series on “Unexpected Jesus.” Danny took us to the story of Lazarus. A story of delayed arrival. Unexpected timing that found the friends and family of Lazarus in the thick of grief, at the point of numb acceptance that their loved one wasn’t coming back.
In their traditional beliefs, the soul hovered above the body for three days. Waiting. But the fourth day? Gone. No hope. It was the pinnacle of sorrow and loss in the death of Lazarus. Decay had begun. And it was the day of Jesus’ arrival.