Mary was inconsolable. Four long
days and longer nights had passed since her friend and brother had passed into
the great beyond and still Jesus had not come. She sat there with her hands on
her head and would scarcely move. Martha was frantic that she would lose her
last family member to despair and it caused her to be sharper than she
intended.
“Mary, get up! You can’t sit
around moping all day! These people need to be feed. They came to comfort you.
Show some appreciation at least. And for goodness sake eat! I can’t have you
wasting away like a dried up vine.” She scurried away to attend to other
duties.
Mary stared after her with dull
eyes, hardly comprehending what her sister had said. I laid him on the altar. I gave him
up like Abraham did Isaac fully expecting that God would perform some sort of
miracle but he didn’t come. Jesus did not come.
A young lady hesitantly touched her
sleeve, wishing to show sympathy. Mary
looked up and smiled briefly and was vaguely aware that others in the crowd
were standing at a distance, wanting to reach out to her, but afraid of doing
or saying the wrong thing. Her head felt too heavy to hold up so she covered
her face with her hands once again.
“Such inconsolable grief,”
someone muttered. “They were so close.”
“Yea, and who’s going to support
the girls now that Lazarus is gone?”
“If she wouldn’t have rested her
hopes on that Jesus person healing her brother, she wouldn’t be so heartsick
now.”
The speakers drifted away but soon
there was a commotion by the door and an excited babble of voices.
“Jesus has come!”
“Jesus has arrived.”
Mary saw Martha rush out to meet
him, but felt too wooden to get up and follow her. Why bother? It’s too late
now.
Someone offered her a cup of
water, but she sweetly declined.
“The Master has come and calleth
for thee!”
Tate publishing is doing Second Editions on two of my books and I am impressed with the results I have seen so far.
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