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Lazarus Moments: Trusting God With Decay in Our Lives

Lazarus Moments: Trusting God With Decay in Our LivesI kicked, slammed my body onto, and punched the dishwasher. It had spent the past six months vacillating between functional and dysfunctional. We would get about 15 good cycles out of it, and then it would suddenly start turning off after loading the first water cycle. No cleaning—only wasted water. Some days I would restart it 10 times. We were not friends. On those days I would hand-wash the build-up on the almost-nonexistent countertop while trash-talking my limping, lame appliance for deceiving me once again into thinking it was revived, healed, restored, capable. Nothing I could do in my own strength could make that confounded piece of plastic do my bidding.

Then, for two weeks, my husband and I taught our Junior High Sunday School class, focusing on the content-rich and highly symbolic account of Jesus raising His friend Lazarus from the dead.

John 11:32-37, ESV, Apostle John speaking

Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.

And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.”

Jesus wept.

So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”

But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?”

There are a few key points to mention before we make a crazy connection between the dying dishwasher and Lazarus—and our lives in general. Read the rest of this entry »

 

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A Father’s Love: Defender and Servant


This blog was first a featured column at Your Tewksbury Today on Father’s Day.

A Father's Love, Defender and ServantAs I sit here waiting on news from my father after a three-month check-up, CAT scan, and blood work were performed to let us know if the beast that is cancer is keeping its nasty little talons out of his body, I watch another father patiently brushing his son’s limbs, back, and extremities. He follows it up with joint compressions and rolls the yoga ball onto our youngest son’s back.

I am sandwiched in life by two fathers:

  • One still on guard against a disease that has launched pathological assault weapons at his body multiple times in different places over the span of about 35 years
  • One who helps with the five-times-a-day occupational therapy at home for a child with sensory integration issues, anxiety, and ADHD

My father has never backed down in the face of a nonstop onslaught on his organs, muscle, and tissue. He knows prayer (in the name of Jesus) is a powerful weapon.

My husband will never stop serving my son—not until he sees a settled, healthier version of him.

I am struck by the fact that my Father in heaven sent Jesus to do both of these things for us: Read the rest of this entry »

 

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