My mourning, my dancing...

He was my light and my sunshine; my heart was brighter than the sun has ever shone on the day I first held him in my arms. His eyes was the switch that turned on the sparkles in my life. I saw life in beautiful colors the day he was born. He was my comfort, my friend, my companion, my son, my life line… my everything. The only reason I chose to live after his father died...
Oh, what a tragedy, loosing the love of my life, the man who stole my love, became my husband, showed me gentleness and passion, made me glow and made my heart dance with his poetry… the day he died felt like the worst day of my life. If only I knew there’d be a day worst than that, I would never have mourned so hard. If I knew I would hold the lifeless body of my son, the sunshine of my life, I would have saved my grief for that moment. The moment i never imagined would come, the moment i languished in.
My tears had failed me; I was a walking and talking zombie. I walked with the procession to the funeral… Why couldn’t I drop dead? Why couldn’t I be lifted up and carried away with my son. My precious boy… Why wouldn’t he open his eyes and make me sparkle again? Why wouldn’t he sneeze and laugh at me, tell me it was one of his silly pranks… why wouldn’t his kiss wake me up from that nightmare? why wouldn't he make the ache in my heart stop?
I hated the sound of the women wailing, I hated the sound of the funeral song, high pitched and off key. I wanted to be alone with my son, I wanted to carry him on my back to the place where he would sleep forever, I wanted to lie with him and cuddle him. I wanted all that. I was tired. The God I served had forgotten me. He had let me down again...
I noticed the procession slow down, I wondered why everyone was whispering… but I didn’t have to wonder for so long, i lifted my eyes to see, and walking towards me was a man with a crowd following him, a man with eyes like no other, eyes that ran deeper than I ever saw. I stared at those eyes filled with compassion, getting lost in the depths of them, I felt a calm like never before, a feeling I couldn’t explain, I needed to know who he was, but I couldn’t even speak… all I heard was a whisper from the crowd "Jesus of Nazareth"
 "Don’t cry” he said to me.
If I could speak at that moment I would have said I wasn’t crying, i would have told him i was cried out, my heart was a barren land, lacking the moist of expression. But I was so drowned in what I saw in his eyes that I couldn’t speak, even when he put his hands on my face and wiped away my tears; my hands flew to my face in shock... i had been crying without knowing it. I thought I was all cried out, where did the tears come from? 
What was this reassurance I got from this Jesus the one we had heard about? Why did I feel like I shouldn’t grief anymore? I almost believed everything was alright until I looked up and saw my sons body coming up behind me.
The man walked over to the pall bearers and touched the stretcher… he said words that left me speechless and got the crowd mumbling…
 “young man, get up”
I heard a snigger to my right, I noticed my sister chuckle. I didn’t care, call it desperate hope, but I didn’t think it impossible to see my son rise again.
Thus I was half shocked and half elated with expectations when I saw the light of my life’s legs move, and then he sat up… and the man helped him off the stretcher and put him in my arms…
Oh what joy, what hope, what peace, what impossibility… that I would hold my boy again, that within a few minutes, my despair would turn to pure unadulterated joy, that the impossible would be made possible, that the spark in my life would be restored.
“God has come to his people indeed”
We were all in awe. Our songs of mourning turned into songs of joy… this time, my voice rang higher than every other voice, this time, I cried and wailed in joy… this time, my boy carried me in his arms running towards the house as we praised the name of the Lord God of Israel…
God has come to his people, God has brought love and joy, and God has brought hope and restoration… God is with us, and he has touched me. I believe more than I ever did. I have seen his goodness first hand. I will tell the nations of his love.
"You did it: you changed wild lament into whirling dance; You ripped off my black mourning band and decked me with wildflowers" Psalm 30:11(the msg)
Luke 7:11-17

When the going gets tough, when you feel all hope is lost, God is right at the corner, he will surprise you and turn your mourning to dancing, and lift your sorrow and fill your heart with so much joy that your mouth would have no choice but to declare his power and glory.  
"When the Lord saw her, his heart went out to her and he said, 'Don't cry.'" (Luke 7:13)
May God's compassion meet us in our deepest sorrow.


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