You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.

After the pain comes the Joy!

John 12:1-11

Six days before Passover Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.  They gave a dinner for him there, and Martha served, while Lazarus was one of those reclining at table with him.  Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.  Then Judas the Iscariot, one of his disciples, and the one who would betray him, said, "Why was this oil not sold for three hundred days' wages and given to the poor?"  He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief and held the money bag and used to steal the contributions.  So Jesus said, "Leave her alone.  Let her keep this for the day of my burial.  You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me."

The large crowd of the Jews found out that he was there and came, not only because of him, but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead.  And the chief priests plotted to kill Lazarus too, because many of the Jews were turning away and believing in Jesus because of him.

You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.

Lord,

They will always have the poor but they will not always have you.  I understand what that means to them, but Lord, what does that mean to me?  Lord, you are with me always.  Maybe it means you must come first above all, including the poor. 

Yes, that right but there’s more. 

Lord, what else?  I don’t understand.

It gave her great pleasure to be at your feet, to be there serving you, loving you in the flesh.  I can only imagine the ecstasy of being that close to you, to touch you, being close enough to dry your feet with my hair, even the thought of it fills my heart with desire.  Lord, thinking about it and not being able to be there fills my heart with sadness and a longing, a desire that is pulling me away from this world.  But I am stuck here in this world, so the grief is even more intense because I cannot be with you.  My heart aches just thinking about it.  It seems that it would be better not to have that and then it be taken away.

Yes, but it gives you something to strive for.  It sets a goal that can be achieved, not in this world but the next.

Lord, how does this have anything to do with the situation I find myself in?

If you do what you are thinking of doing, it will deprive him of an opportunity to grow, to give, to get out of his selfishness.  Your idea is an easy way out.  A drug to take away the pain, yet keep you in the problem.  Your pain is self-sacrifice for him.  Eventually he will have to look at himself if he is to advance spiritually.

He is that rock with gel oozing out but does not flow.  If he weren’t a rock, you could squeeze it out, but you have several choices.  Or can put it on the shelf in a dark closet and shut the door, which is what you are proposing.  You can smash it with a hammer like a coconut or you can slowly pry it open.  And yes you have to be the proactive one in all of these choices.  He is happy to sit in one place and not move so there is no discomfort of change.  The last two options are going to involve pain for him but they are also going to allow the fester in wounds deep inside of him to come into the light be cleansed out and heal.

Right now it is like he has a wound, a cancer that he does not know he has and he doesn’t want to know.  He is under the impression that not knowing means it doesn’t exist.  That is denial and all it does is prolong the healing and allow the cancer to continue to grow.

The treatment is not without cost and pain and fear, which is not from me, is keeping his head in the sand  That fear is tightly surrounding him like a black, thick fog that keeps him form seeing beyond it.  It is like he is in the safety of the womb.  But even that place becomes toxic if the baby is not delivered and it stays in there too long.

There is a time for birth but before birth comes the labor pains.  They all vary in length and intensity and you may not have much control over them but there are ways to minimize the suffering for the mother, but the baby is still under great pressure and the tightness of what used to be safe and comfortable has now become a place of pain and the child must go down the dark tunnel to see the light.  It must pass through it or it will die.

And he must pass through it as well if he wants to live, live the life he was made for.  You are there to help him.  You must coax him out, you must be there to help him adjust to the light and all the new things that have come into his awareness.  You are there to help guide him until he is used to the light and has matured enough to make it on his own out there.

What a responsibly, Lord,

You said you wanted to follow my will and that you would do what is necessary to achieve it.  You said you would accept the pain of it.  This is your opportunity.

It is not moving mountains but saving a soul.  One you proclaim to love.

OMG, What weird and difficult things you ask me to do.

If it were simple I wouldn’t need you.  You are my hands and feet and mouth on earth.