As he approached the gate of the town, a man who had died was being carried out. He was his mother’s only son, and she was a widow; and with her was a large crowd from the town. When the Lord saw her, he had compassion for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came forward and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, rise!” The dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother.
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I was reading a collection of essays by Annie Dillard this weekend and this quote danced for me: "As adults we are almost all adept at waking up. We have so mastered the transition we forgot we learned it. Yet it is a transition we make a hundred times a day, as, like so many will-less dolphins, we plunge and surface, lapse and emerge. We live half our waking lives and all of our sleeping lives in some private, useless, and insensible waters we never mention or recall. Useless, I say. Valueless, I might add- until someone hauls their wealth up to the surface and into the wide-awake city, in a form that people can use." Such a splendid thought to describe, if only in part, what Jesus does for us - hauling the wealth of new life to our waking surface in a form that we can use.
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May we this day be awake, Lord. Amen.
Deb Grant, resilient child of God, creative tinker of paper, ink, wood, shiny things, paint and words. The human amusement of a parrot and a dog.
Writer, poet, artist, human, citizen, learner, scruffy, goof.
Word Food by Deb is randomly published. More than weekly, less than daily at the following media sites: