Saturday, April 23, 2011

"Life is heavy," Jason whispered before going to bed Monday night. And it has been this week.

So many friends and family around us are walking through hard places, and our hearts have visited the valley with them. Maybe that's why this Easter more than usual we sense the heaviness and magnitude of what happened. Almost as if it's currently taking place. We reflected Thursday night after a passover meal at how Jesus could even think of eating knowing what was ahead. Or even stand to his feet under the weight? Because our heaviness this week has been almost crippling but still such a far cry from the weight of the sins of the world and the subsequent mockery, betrayal and crucifixion.

At one o'clock yesterday I wept. During the two o'clock hour a sense of heaviness settled in and since three a mixture of relief and sorrow has been left behind. The grief those followers went through. And His mother. Oh, His mother....

Today at a railroad festival where people bustled all around, my heart was quiet and extremely sad. Because I'm waiting in the silence and mourning yesterday's loss. "Tomorrow," I said to myself. "There will be Hope, tomorrow."

I've been learning a lot about having faith in the waiting and trusting the will of God. While He still whispers India now and again, it's clear that now is not the time. And while He led me to a new friend who is hearing the same whispers of India with no idea why, He asks us both to wait and hold this sacred word in our open hands. Really in all of my interest in that country and calling adoption agencies and stalking, I mean befriending, an Indian lady that works in Walmart, I am being very challenged in the waiting. It's not about a country or some supernatural sign. It's all about a Creator who longs that every man, woman, boy and girl know about this story that's unfolding tonight...and, in the beautiful sun-filled morning. It's about Hope for every man.

We would be honored to raise a little girl from that country and tell her all about this extravagant Savior. And we will praise Him if He brings her. But this surrendered heart is also learning to say, "we will praise Him even if He doesn't."

For tonight I wait and trust because I know the next part of Christ's story. And without a clue to our own story's next chapter, we will be filled with hope as long as the Redeemer who greets us tomorrow is in it's pages. So come quickly morning. Our story, everyone's story, rests on your light revealing an empty grave.