Following

Lazarus dies.
Jesus comes too late, weeps and commands life back into the corpse.
One of the most beautiful scenes in the Bible occurs shortly after this miracle, when Mary, heedless of social norms or practicality, pours out her perfume over Jesus and wipes it up with her hair. I understand her here...she is overwhelmed with gratitude to the One who gave her back her dead. In her joy she is thinking....its all yours, you can have all of me....I don't care what anyone else thinks, I don't care how much it costs me....all I know is that you are beautiful and all I am is yours. I am dead to all other passions, opinions and I am fully alive to you.

Later in this same chapter Jesus states that a life that is given up, buried into the ground will be raised up and will bear much fruit. He goes on to say if anyone wants to serve Him they will follow Him. This thought is intriguing....servanthood is not overseas missions, or diligent prayer and a Bible reading program. Its not serving in the nursery or bringing a meal or even doing the dishes. Or it is. Its sticking close, its having an experience with Jesus that is so powerful that you become so captivated by His winsomeness that you say with Mary...I don't care how much it costs me or where it leads me...all I know is that you are beautiful and all I am is yours. So we go where He goes.

I like this.....I like the adventure this breathes into my rather normal life. You just don't know where He is going next. He's rather unpredictable and its exciting to be right on His heels watching Him raise the dead, and open the eyes of the blind. I like this until I don't like it anymore. When He washes feet, when people hate Him, when He walks up to calvary and dies there. I told Him last week, standing over a full washer, I told Him I didn't want to follow Him anymore. I would rather He would just leave us alone. I want safety, quiet. But no...thats not completely true. I want to want His will more than mine, I want to want to follow Him, no matter where He goes. And in that confession in that cramped laundry room on a Monday morning the Kingdom of Heaven broke in a little in my heart.

Jesus says the one who follows Him, His Father will honor.
I wonder about that statement. What does it mean to be honored by the Father? I have to think its better then safety and quiet, predictability. I taste it when I tell Him I can't even follow Him without His help...on my own I'm a coward. But He is gentle and His yoke is easy and I get the feeling He does not mind slowing down for the weak one.

I see His delight in this offering of our own precious perfume. And His joy is infectious and worth it all.