Mary In The Middle
Right now, as I type, I’m finally coming to the end of a “middle” point between homes. What started with a transition from West Virginia back to Kentucky left us living with family while we attempted to purchase one home, then another, then another. After several months, we have now closed on a home here in Kentucky and will be moving in soon!
Several weeks ago, before the confirmation that we did indeed have a house, I remember being in the middle of a thunder storm of thoughts. With those thoughts rumbling around in my mind, and a coffee in my hand (mostly caramel macchiato creamer), I propped open my Bible to where I had left off the day before, John 20. This particular time, gazing into this moment in history, I learned something from Mary Magdalene that I had never noticed before.
This chapter in John tells the true story of Mary Mag going to Jesus’ tomb early on the first day of the week (Sunday) while it was still dark and seeing that the stone had been rolled away.
When Mary sees that Jesus’ body is gone, in her sudden surprise she goes running to tell the disciples what she thinks to be true, “They’ve taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they’ve put him!” She assumes he has been removed by human hands and doesn’t seem to remember Jesus’ promise.
As much as we want to remember those promises it can prove hard when you’re the one walking through your own middle moment. I can attest to this experience each time we had made an offer on a home that we loved and mentally had already moved into what we thought was the promised home – only to have two deals fall through and leave us questioning why. Yet, as much as I wanted to throw in the towel (instead folding it nicely and laying to the side like Jesus did) – we kept hoping and kept looking.
When I first read the words, “Mary went” in verse one I thought about her faith in comparison to my own. Did Mary Mag question her steps when walking to the tomb that morning or did she fully believe that her middle moment, there in front of the tomb, would become worth every step she had taken? Did she fully trust the wait? Did she truly understand Jesus’ words when he said he would rebuild the temple in three days? Either way, she got up that morning and she went, she still did what she knew to be the next right step between Jesus’ body going into the tomb and Jesus walking out. She went because she loved him.
I’ve often beat myself up for questioning the middle ground, as if, that means I have no faith and am no longer saved or something. But I see in Mary’s walk that morning, that her will to go was far greater than any wrong assumption she made along the way. No amount of questioning could define her, because her love and excitement were so much more.
This is what I’ve learned from Mary: despite my confusion, and never mind my questioning, I still go. I still get up every morning and spend time in the Word. I still go to church every weekend and worship the one who loved me first. I still fast because I trust Him even when I don’t understand.
I’ll never know, this side of heaven, if Mary had questions, or if she overthought. So, I’ll just go off her example of posture. Her posture of a follower. Even if she did have confusion or emotional moments she still went, still served, still prayed, still praised and even in her trust…she wept.