It was an odd sensation, wishing I could see the face they saw.
Every one of us, tired, empty and needing to be filled but, not knowing with what or how.
We met for a Bible study, led by me because the volunteer had other things.
Four women and I.
I followed the guide, the chapter on “What Jesus Did” and we all scribbled notes in boxes for responses.
What do you think? How would you answer?
I give the answers, they agree and then we turn to John 11.
I break out into story, song, and enthusiastic all sorts of reading, followed by hands moving in elaboration.
I’m Martha, I told them.
Martha who gave up, ran out searching, frantic, anxious, trying to get everything just so.
While Mary sits, their brother has died.
Jesus is his friend; but, he didn’t get there in time. Martha told him so.
I’m reading scripture and we’re talking about believing.
I read about Jesus’s tears and we talk about it.
We wondered why he cried. We all, me and four women who live in a shelter I make possible, talked about why Jesus cried.
I can hardly take this in.
Then we read, me pausing to say “Can’t you just see this?” and let me tell you about the time I felt like this.
A time I just could not see through and I looked up, looked out across open and empty sky and I prayed,
“Lord, show me your glory.”
Because I needed to see what I had decided was impossible to be.
And, sometimes, I told them I pray this again, adding
“Lord, please show me your glory.”
and I’m wishing now as I remember tonight,
That I could see my face the way their faces saw me.
When I got excited about why I love Martha more than Mary.
And I led us off the Bible study bullet list plan and we all veered off, captivated by glory.
Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” John 11:40