“Mary’am, tell me! Why is your Son doing this to us? I thought he loved us:
Lazarus in particular.
Martha’s dark eyes were wide with fear as she agitatedly wrung her hands. “I’ve tried and tried to give Lazarus a little chicken broth, but he barely responds. Oh, Mary’am, I don’t think he is going to last the night!”
Just then her younger, frailer sister appeared. “Mary! Where have you been? Don’t you know your brother is ill, so very ill, and yet you wander off in your dream world somewhere! Where were you anyway?”
“To see our brother;” Her voice was low, broken. “Why didn’t He come?”
“Jesus? Who knows! We gave him plenty of warning.”
Jesus’ mother heard the twinge of bitterness in Martha’s voice, and her heart ached. She had known Yeshua, the Jewish name for her son, all her life, but still she didn’t know him. Why hadn't he come? The message had been sent by a fleet runner days ago, so why wasn’t He here? Mary’am shook her head and wandered outside to look down the dusty road. There was no one in sight. Somehow I know His heart is breaking with pity and compassion for this little family, but still He lingers. What could have detained Him this long?
Someone stepped up and laid her hand on Martha's arm. It was a servant girl.
“He’s gone.”
Lazarus in particular.
Martha’s dark eyes were wide with fear as she agitatedly wrung her hands. “I’ve tried and tried to give Lazarus a little chicken broth, but he barely responds. Oh, Mary’am, I don’t think he is going to last the night!”
Just then her younger, frailer sister appeared. “Mary! Where have you been? Don’t you know your brother is ill, so very ill, and yet you wander off in your dream world somewhere! Where were you anyway?”
“To see our brother;” Her voice was low, broken. “Why didn’t He come?”
“Jesus? Who knows! We gave him plenty of warning.”
Jesus’ mother heard the twinge of bitterness in Martha’s voice, and her heart ached. She had known Yeshua, the Jewish name for her son, all her life, but still she didn’t know him. Why hadn't he come? The message had been sent by a fleet runner days ago, so why wasn’t He here? Mary’am shook her head and wandered outside to look down the dusty road. There was no one in sight. Somehow I know His heart is breaking with pity and compassion for this little family, but still He lingers. What could have detained Him this long?
Someone stepped up and laid her hand on Martha's arm. It was a servant girl.
“He’s gone.”
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