[photo credit here]
i’ve seen resurrection with my own eyes.
if you know my soul-friends, you’ve seen it, too.
i don’t mean the body – don’t send your news vans and paparazzi; i mean something deeper.
i have seen the dead rise and limp on, and i’ve seen them haul others from the tomb, and Lazarus himself could not impress me more.
i once stared into sonya’s eyes and was struck dumb by what i saw: nothing. like not-quite-daybreak behind a curtain. like shallow water on a cloudy day. i know that girl like i know my own self, and she was gone. her soul had chased after that boy ‘til it wore itself out and just laid itself down. pulled the dirt on top.
sure, she kept moving: bought the groceries, stirred the soup. her bones kept walking like they’d been taught. she laid her skeleton beside Drason’s at night, and come next morning, them bones would walk around again.
but there is more to life than pulse and progress, and i grieved Sonya, i grieved Drason, in much the same way i grieved Bane.
i don’t know when the stone was rolled away, and i do know that there are days when they both need the cool and quiet of a tomb to tuck their grief inside, but like the Jesus i have prayed to and wrestled with each day since Bane’s passing, my friends have been brought from death to life, and like Peter, i want to run shouting to the empty tomb. i want to testify about the miracle i have witnessed.
And we have, too.
Praying this Easter that those who read here would have eyes to see all of the things he is resurrecting, as we wait on his return.