Susan LaffertyThe weight on my heart is not a frantic, anxious weight. It’s the weight of prayer. Prayer for my dear friend who is suffering. She wades through deep waters in this season. Crushed.
Crying out to You the hurt. The upheaval. The unknown.
And yet, even there she speaks of Your faithfulness. Even there, Your word sustains. Daily manna, she says. And ponders what the God of the impossible can do.
“If we believe He is who He says He is, how can we not hope?”
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.
