Dear Nestlings,
Not surprisingly, I’ve been thinking about resurrection lately. Not the resurrection so many celebrated last month, but resurrection in general. Why this specificity in type of resurrection? Well, because the whole thinking process actually started with the story of Lazarus, not the story of Easter. And—actually—the thinking process started before that story even got to Lazarus. It started when Jesus talked to Martha about the concept of resurrection at all.
As a brief recap, their conversation moves back and forth between Martha expressing faith in an eventual resurrection and Jesus trying to clue her into the fact that he is the resurrection and that he exists in the here and now. Martha doesn’t seem to get this, since even later, at the tomb, she is worried about what might happen should they roll away the sepulchre stone. Jesus reminds her again: didn’t I tell you that I’m the resurrection and that I’m here, right now? And Martha is trying, really she is, but it’s hard to wrap her head around this concept.
This is the conversation I’ve been thinking about. This moment before the resurrection of Lazarus even happens, when Jesus is trying to tell Martha the resurrection isn’t for “later,” but for “now.”
This moment coupled with the idea of life in general.
Of course, “life in general” isn’t specific at all, but I promise. . . that’s the phrasing I really mean here. Because I’ve been thinking about “life in general” too.
You see, I’m about forty years old now, give or take two years or three—how am I supposed to remember?—and I’m entering a new phase of life. Those first twenty years: they were about growing up, learning the basics. Then I did another twenty years: more learning, learning, learning! That, and a lot of kids. And now, another twenty is on it’s way and it’s all about to change again.
It’s made me think a lot, this time of transition, about who I was twenty years ago and what that person would think of the person who I’ve become now. And since the twenty years between me and that girl were full of a lot of time spent focusing on others, I’ve wondered about how much of her I even remember. I’m certainly glad I’ve changed since then, there are parts of the new me I fought hard to get, but the truth is there are aspects of that girl I miss. I’ve wondered, is that something I will ever get back? Or have those parts of my “self” died? And what does that mean about who I am now, or who I will become in the next twenty years?
This letter isn’t meant to be dark and moody, but I’m pretty sure this type of change happens to everyone. We can only concentrate on so many things at a time, and different parts of our lives call for different angles of emphasis, for different parts of our selves. That’s okay, and as it should be. But this can be especially tricky when we feel like we’re giving up things we love or want for ourselves for the necessary things happening in any given moment of life. This can be tricky when we’re asked to let go of a treasured time we’ve worked hard to build. Life here on earth asks us to sacrifice, we couldn’t grow without it. And sacrifice will happen again and again.
So what do we do with that concept? What do we do with the fact that the days will turn to weeks, the weeks will turn to months, the months will turn to years, and time will pass. What do we do with the fact that sometimes we’ll have lost some important piece of our self when we were holding onto some other precious gift that was, in fact, more important to hold onto just then? What will we do when it’s time to let go of the the current gift, the thing we’ve found joy in making everything about, and pick up that old piece we’d forgotten once again? How are we meant to make this interplay of time and focus and self and other work out?
It’s a puzzle, a puzzle I look at with confusion, just as Martha did.
Of course it’s there, right there in that very confusion that I hear Christ beside me, whispering: “Didn’t I tell you the resurrection is for now. Can’t I make alive anything you’ve thought you’ve lost, or think you’re losing now?
I can’t tell you much about “life in general,” about all you’ll face and all that will change about you. I know it won’t all go as planned, and that sometimes you’ll lose hold of things you never thought you could do without. I also know that you’ll have things of beauty, things you never imagined receiving, dropped right into your lap. Through it all, I hope you’ll believe in the resurrection, in the power of loss being made whole and right.
And I hope you’ll remember that it’s for now.
Right. Now.
Love,
Mom
Wow! Thank you for beautifully expressing my feelings the last few months as a new widow. I have learned the essence of us continues after separation from our bodies ever learning and progressing in preparation to be united again with our outer shell, though resurrection, preparatory for the final judgment and eternal life. Will we be the same? Likely not but hopefully more complete, more confident in our relationship with our Savior and one day realize the power of covenant keeping.