It was all too familiar.
Here she was walking the stony rugged path outside the city
gate once again. A familiarity she never wanted, never asked for but yet she
was retracing those same steps that she had taken before. A trip that seemed to
had only been yesterday.
Just like the last time she kept her eyes averted to the
ground. She could sense all the people around her but at the same time felt
completely alone. She could barely even hear the professional mourners over the
cries of her heart.
“What now?” “How could this have happened?” “What will I do to survive?” Questions coming
one after another, invading her thoughts as she tried desperately to keep her
knees from buckling.
With tears spilling down her cheeks faster than she could
wipe them away with a cloth that lost its dryness days ago, she tried to focus
on the shoulders of the men walking in front of her. In fact, there were two columns of men
walking together, side by side. These men were carefully placing their steps as
to not mishandle the precious cargo atop their shoulders. Each sharing the weight of the poles that
made up the stretcher like coffin upon which the shrouded body of her son-her
only son lay. Not only was this her dearly loved son but since her husband had
died he was her protector and her provider. Now he too was gone.
The further outside the city she went the more numb she became.
She barely noticed the group walking towards the gate about to pass her. The cultural traditions held that when one
passes a funeral procession condolences were to be made. This would be no
different. For a moment she was able to pull herself out of the dense fog
within her head. She could tell there
was a buzz of excitement within the oncoming group.
What it was she didn’t know and frankly she
didn’t care.
Her world had stopped and that was all she really knew.
Once the group was close enough she lifted her eyes just
barely to see the man walking ahead of the rest. There was something different
about him. He wasn’t like the other mourners. As her eyes met his briefly she
could tell he held true compassion for her. He came close and whispered to her,
“Do not weep?” Then he did the most
unusual thing. He reached for the stretcher carrying her son’s body. The small
amount of air that was left in her fragile body leapt out in a gasp. If this
man touched the body he would be deemed unclean. “Why would he do that?” she
asked herself.
As the man touched the side of the open air coffin, those
carrying it stood still. She couldn’t help but draw close. She had to know what
was happening. It was almost like
everything around her hushed and then she heard the strangest words coming from
the man. Her head began spinning. “Did he just say what I thought he said? Did
he just say, “Young man, I say to you rise?”
She stared at the man for what seemed forever then slowly
turned and looked at where the body of her son lay. “What was she seeing? Was
she dreaming? Was that her son was
sitting up and talking?” At that moment she could no longer keep her knees
under her.
More questions bombarded her. “In her stumble, had she
fallen asleep? Was this a strange dream? Was this man she kept hearing others
call Jesus really standing in front of her? Who was that he has his arm around?
Is that really her son?”
She reached timidly out to the hand beckoning for hers and
when they met…when real live flesh met tears and laughter burst from her. It was her son. He was truly alive.
The widow of Nain (Luke 7:11-17) only expected the obvious
that day. She expected to follow a
procession to the cemetery. She expected to bury her son into the cold ground.
She expected to walk that lonely path back through the gates of the city to her
house. She expected life to be hard and sad from that point on.
But what she didn’t expect…she didn’t expect Jesus.
Jesus walked up and exceeded her expectations.
Friend you may not be walking in a literal funeral
procession but you might be like I am, standing on a stony path watching that
dream encased in a bubble wafting away on the slightest breeze. Maybe you also feel like I have, like you are
standing drenched in a muddy puddle from the wave that doused the passion that
once burned like a raging fire in your heart.
Maybe your only expectations are to bury those dreams and
passions in the cold earth with life never being the same again.
Maybe you are
not sure what to expect.
God has me on the journey of expectation. He is telling me
not to be walking down a stony path with limited expectations.
I have felt God ask
me “Are you expecting Jesus?”
God is tugging at my heart to expect the arrival of Jesus
and to be ready for him to reach out and touch that which I once thought was
dead and rejoice when He exceeds my expectations.
Psalm 145:19 says, “He will fulfill the desires of those who
reverently and worshipfully fear Him.”
Oh friend, expectantly wait for His arrival and don’t be
surprised when what He does totally exceeds your expectations.
Edwin Louis Cole says, “Expectancy is the atmosphere of
miracles.”
I can’t wait, can you?