Wailing in despair, slumped over shuffling, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, she moved behind the men carrying her only means of support. He was her only son. Her husband had been gone for many years. This young man in the tomb box, he was her life. Nothing else for her here.
The weight of that box sat on shoulders that had no sense of further obligation but to get the box to its final resting place. Just a job that had to be done. Only slight pity for the woman following them. Unsuspecting of Who they were about to encounter and what He would do to shake their world.
The procession coming their way was much larger than their own. People pressing in from all directions to the center of the group. They were loud and shouting but not angry. More like desperate pleas for help. Who was at the center of that group?
They stopped. The One in the middle of the crowd parted the throng of devotees. Moving to the woman, looking at the box. Not oblivious to every other person surrounding Him but giving attention to a pressing need. Not only the need of the woman, but the needs of each one that could see and hear the work in front of Him.
With just a touch of His hand and the sound of His voice, the contents of the box moved.
The mother, unable to stand or shout, fell on her knees in disbelief, mouth gaping open with breath strangled. Could this really be happening? Who was this Man that recalled the dead from a cold stingy grip?
Shoulders struggled to hold the box with the weight shifting and wanting out. Dropping the box as the one inside jumped out, the bearers also found themselves on their knees. Chests pounding. Eyes wide open beholding a miracle.
The throng of people, energized even more, shifted from pleading to praising. Scattering to go give testimony to what they had witnessed. News traveled fast that day.
And the woman had her son.
And the bearers had an empty box but compassion.
And all the people had their Savior.
What death-grip is He wanting to remove from you? Are you willing to give it to Him or are your fingers too stingy to give it up? Giving it to Him is choosing to drop the death-box and deciding to be raised to life with Him.
Will you live with Him today? Just ask Him and then let Him do the work.
