She’d wiped his feet with her hair.
She’d spent time in worship while Martha was bitter, angry and anxious over his presence in their home…worried she might not be good enough still.
Martha and Mary both struggled over the delay in Jesus coming to help their brother. He was dead.
I imagine they felt, “Well, not all my prayers and struggles matter to Jesus”
I’m the same way.
One prayer spoken can bring what seems an immediate resolution while another lingers unresolved for what feels like years, sometimes is.
Mary waited quietly.
Martha, still anxious and panicked, ran out to ask “Why so long?”
Mary had the same question; but, with a surrendered approach, a desire to understand and grow, she went out to welcome Jesus.
I want to be like Mary; to hear Jesus say “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” John 11:40
Most days I’m so uncertain of prayer it’s almost a passing thought.
A passing thought like early yesterday morning.
My daughter called. Her wallet was lost; somewhere between job, soon to be new home, and her bedroom here. We’re transitioning, a wedding very soon.
She will be moving out.
My house is in total disarray. Doors are closed to rooms that have become storage units and pretty little spots are unorganized and off kilter.
I searched everywhere, finally the laundry room.
Standing in the center of a spot only big enough for my feet. Two laundry baskets overflowing and shelves covered in socks unmatched, towels, things waiting to be hung or thrown back in to fluff, I ran my hands though the clothing and searched for a wallet I had no idea how would haved ended up here.
Stopped then, giving up the search and said a silent prayer, really just a thought, “Lord, please help Heather find her wallet.” and then decided to just go on with my morning.
Texted her to say, “Sorry, no wallet here anywhere”. I expected to hear later she’d found it.
She replied, “I just found it.”
I told her I had prayed. “Power of prayer” she replied.
I’m praying for bigger things than misplaced wallets lately.
I’m praying with big lumps in my throat and with an honest pleading of surrender.
Praying so much it feels like angst, like work, like frustration.
Prayers that I know God is hearing; but, maybe wondering why I’m hesitant to believe.
Why I’m ranting so, when help is on the way…in time.
Maybe not as immediate a response as a laundry room prayer.
I’ll believe and I will see, soon.
As soon as I continue on my way, resolute in His glory.
As soon as I decide to stop my diligent search for the answer, like a wallet left at work that was never in any of the places I looked, after all.
If I’ll let go, sit quietly and wait to welcome the arrival of the one who heals.
If I will believe.
Have faith in God. Mark 11:24
I’m linking up with others who tell stories of believing.