The first faculty of love is to lay down.
Love does not say,
“I will stand here and encourage you up.”
Rather, love says, “I will kneel here and we will stumble to stand together.”
This past weekend I was able to toast to this love. It was a celebration of prayers that had echoed through the walls of a house that needed to know they did not pray in vain. It was a moment that the angels surely adored and the demons surely hated. For I saw a whole family bow and bend together. They reached to the dust and knelt as one flesh anticipating deliverance. They wept and bent but did not break, though they knew brokenness.
And then they knew once again the word: Alleluia. This word rang through clanking glasses, thankful tears and smiles that whispered deliverance. If you were there you would have heard the gospel. You would have seen bold tears and you would have heard courageous laughter. You would have seen bowing hearts thankful not to be broken but delivered-yet again. You would have felt a deep pain along with a deep joy. You would have dwelt with Christ.
For anywhere there is joy purchased, there is our Savior standing with arms stretched thankful that He could buy our freedom. Anywhere we see grief expressed in boldness and people gathered under one plea of deliverance we once again see our risen Lord. And I wish you could have been there. For it is one thing to read the words of love but it is quite different to see them bleeding on a dinner table as mourning turns to dancing. It is good to read of resurrection but it is incredible to see a family rising on the shoulders of a Savior that says,
“See, I have not left you. I have not forsaken you. My shoulders are strong enough.”
I wanted to tell you this story because I know you have your own tomb. I know that at any time we are pleading for the rising Christ to come and practice His resurrection. You have your own plea and that is specific to your own pain. Yet, know this dearly beloved:
Resurrection has not stop echoing.