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Monday, March 26, 2018

Dead Dreams Walking


Holy Monday…  When we remember that sometimes dead stuff comes back to life…

As I was processing this on my way to work, I was thinking about dead dreams.  You see, I’m getting ready to push a couple of buttons within the next few hours that will both change the trajectory of my path for the next several years and resurrect something I hoped for that I thought was long since dead.  I could feel my eyes smiling.  It’s been awhile.

And then it got better…

As I walked into the church, I was heading down the hall toward my office when I saw my sweet, 90 year old friend, who had a heart attack a few weeks ago, heading my way… looking very well… very whole… heck, her hair and make-up look so much better than mine, today, I am put to shame, and she is headed to the salon and to exercise, this afternoon… 

Like my dreams, she wasn’t actually dead, but sometimes it’s close enough that we feel the full effect, anyway.

The words of John 12:1-11 remind us of Jesus’ visit to his once-dead friend, Lazarus.  They remind us of Mary’s grief that begins well before the crucifixion and manifests itself in greasy hair that smells like a tomb.  They remind us of the grasping at straws that is the unease of people who keep trying to kill and destroy what is eternal, even though it can’t be done.

Repeat: It can’t be done.

L.