A trial marked by lies and unfounded accusations. An attempt at pacifying the crowd that still left an innocent man brutalized by an inhumane flogging that stripped away flesh and dignity. A torturous death by crucifixion witnessed by gaping, gawkish taunters, and by confused and grief-stricken mourners. And then, a body is buried, and with it, hope, anticipation, and unanswered questions. Incredulously, some women came on Sunday with amazing words that the body had disappeared! How could that be??? It was certain the body was gone, but a resurrection? A restoration to life? Two who had mourned, and now questioned, walked and pondered aloud. Time was theirs to rehearse the days that had just passed – they had a seven mile journey by foot from Jerusalem to Emmaus. That is when an apparent stranger fell in step with them.
We all know who the “stranger” was. The One who truly was alive engaged their hearts and their thinking in such a way that their eyes and their understanding were open – and then, again, He was gone. What happens next though wholly intrigues me. After a seven mile intense walk on dusty, dirty roads, they turned right around, and went back to Jerusalem! I would have been ready for a hot bath and a shoulder massage! Why??? Why go back? In Jerusalem were the “others” who were “just like them.” Others who had mourned, who had questioned, whose hope was shattered, who wanted sooo much more than what they thought they had. Their hearts and their spirits were as one, and they wanted to be with them! Together their profound joy could be multiplied, and together, without having to explain anything, they could draw together as one in all the thinking and feelings of their spirits.
I spent a weekend with 106 moms who are “just like me.” Each one of us has lost a child to death. Our stories are different and some were, and still are, complicated by agonizing dimensions that horribly distend the whole grieving process. But at the core of our mother-hearts, we understand each other. We give love and acceptance. We have a common hope, but we know that hope, as certain and real as it is, is not a bandaid or a quick fix. There are things we have experienced and felt, questioned and pondered, that mark us as distinct and those on the outside aren’t always quite sure what to do with us. But together, we grieve, we search, we encourage, we challenge, we hope, we heal. God becomes the very foundation of all we share together, and He becomes God-with-skin-on in the lives of those who stay around long enough to patiently, compassionately, and with an understanding borne of life itself, help another mom walk forward on her journey.
We need each other. Whether you are a mom who has lost a child, or you have faced and felt and healed with addictions or abuse, divorce or single parenting, the helplessness of standing at a distance with your own prodigal, the challenges and heartache of a special needs child, or the death of a spouse – there are others “just like you” who desperately need to know you understand and you will embrace them as they walk forward in their own journey, dependent on the hope that only God can give, and encouraged by one who can fully enter into the thinking and feelings of their spirits. God ... who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
(Related Bible reading: Luke 24:13-34)
We all know who the “stranger” was. The One who truly was alive engaged their hearts and their thinking in such a way that their eyes and their understanding were open – and then, again, He was gone. What happens next though wholly intrigues me. After a seven mile intense walk on dusty, dirty roads, they turned right around, and went back to Jerusalem! I would have been ready for a hot bath and a shoulder massage! Why??? Why go back? In Jerusalem were the “others” who were “just like them.” Others who had mourned, who had questioned, whose hope was shattered, who wanted sooo much more than what they thought they had. Their hearts and their spirits were as one, and they wanted to be with them! Together their profound joy could be multiplied, and together, without having to explain anything, they could draw together as one in all the thinking and feelings of their spirits.
I spent a weekend with 106 moms who are “just like me.” Each one of us has lost a child to death. Our stories are different and some were, and still are, complicated by agonizing dimensions that horribly distend the whole grieving process. But at the core of our mother-hearts, we understand each other. We give love and acceptance. We have a common hope, but we know that hope, as certain and real as it is, is not a bandaid or a quick fix. There are things we have experienced and felt, questioned and pondered, that mark us as distinct and those on the outside aren’t always quite sure what to do with us. But together, we grieve, we search, we encourage, we challenge, we hope, we heal. God becomes the very foundation of all we share together, and He becomes God-with-skin-on in the lives of those who stay around long enough to patiently, compassionately, and with an understanding borne of life itself, help another mom walk forward on her journey.
We need each other. Whether you are a mom who has lost a child, or you have faced and felt and healed with addictions or abuse, divorce or single parenting, the helplessness of standing at a distance with your own prodigal, the challenges and heartache of a special needs child, or the death of a spouse – there are others “just like you” who desperately need to know you understand and you will embrace them as they walk forward in their own journey, dependent on the hope that only God can give, and encouraged by one who can fully enter into the thinking and feelings of their spirits. God ... who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
(Related Bible reading: Luke 24:13-34)
