She sat. Just sat. She couldn’t seem to move. How could this be?
She thought of the Love and Laughter, just days before in their little home .
Now, all she could hear was the wailing and weeping of Mourners mingled with the sound of her own silent grief. Tears silently falling into the folds of her dress.
Her hair which had once again fallen in pools around her shoulders, she used to wipe away her tears. Just for a moment she smiled at the thought of what her sister would say about this untidy tangle of curls. On the other hand her brother had always smiled when…her brother.
Why had He not come? They sent word in plenty of time. Her sister even emphasising their affectionate relationship “the one You love” is ill. Still He had not come. And now her beloved brother was dead. Four days buried. Oh, Lazarus how she missed him.
Perhaps it was the shock of true grief. Perhaps it was the loud song of true Mourners. She had not heard the stirrings in the next room. The movement which might have alerted her had she been her usual attentive self, had gone unnoticed.
The curtain gently, firmly came up. Her sister Martha stood in the coolness of the shadows. Barely registering the words, her numb body tried to respond.
Once more her sister said, with greater clarity, “Mary, Jesus is coming. He’s asking for you“.
Journeying through the Book of John . This short story is in response to the Weeks Question~
O that it may some day be said of Me, and you Friends, “He Is Asking For YOU.”
Can you hear Him? Will you answer?
Until next time~Shandra~
no secret messages here #MoveOn #theend