maybe I was wrong- Mary

I hung back. The crowds were screaming. Feet stomping dirt up into the air.  The people had picked up palm branches and were waving them. "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the King of Israel!" In one giant wave, the crowd flowed on while I hung back. I bent over and picked up one of the branches they had laid in His path. Crushed and trampled. Broken and Bruised. I drug the plam down the inside of my hand and a thin river of blood mixed with my blood and sweat. Maybe I was wrong? Maybe I had misunderstood?

I hid in shadows and in the crowds. I listened to what the people were saying. One man shouted, "Did you hear? This is Jesus! The man who raised Lazarus from the dead!" A second man exclaimed, "Here He comes into the Holy city! He will do it, this one! He will deliver us from our oppression of the Romans!" The first man wiped at his sweaty brow. The excitement radiating out of his face.  "Indeed! Surely a man who does wonders such as himself will find the role of King quite fitting!" They laughed . Their hope opened up from all to see.

As they walked away, I realized I was holding my breath. I thought back to one of the first times I sat at Jesus's feet. I knew I shouldn't. It wasn't proper. It wasn't where I was suppose to be. But...but there was something about His voice. When He spoke it felt like a breeze on a hot summer day or a rain after the drought. Everything He said I stored away. Had He ever mentioned overthrowing the rulers? Of taking the place of King of our people to lead us out from Rome? No. He had not. I was sure of it.

I pushed closer to the chaos. Another man, this one young and strong, grabbed hold of the older man in front of him. "Did you hear? This Jesus rose a man from the dead!" The older man shook his hand from him and he scoffed. "If I were you I wouldn't put a lot of faith into such fairytales."

But Mary knew. The pain sliced through her chest as she remembered.She remembered.  Nothing in her life had cut her as deep as her brother's death.

As he struggled to breath I begged him, "Just hang on brother! He is coming! He will save you!" I knew it! I believed it more than I had ever believed in anything before. Then Lazarus stopped breathing. It was like the world suddenly went dark. I couldn't see or breathe. I collapsed. I remember waking up in my bed and staring at the ceiling. He hadn't come, and Lazarus was dead.

I was sitting at the table staring at the very place I had sat at the teacher's feet. How could I have been so wrong? All of the sudden people were yelling that Jesus was here. Martha took off in a run. I couldn't bring myself to stand. He was too late.

The master has asked for you Martha had said. At those words, my soul shattered. I stood up and ran .When I saw Him, my knees gave out and I fell at His feet. The place where at one time I had found hope and peace. "Master, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died!" I felt something on my head. I reached up, and it felt wet. I looked into the face of Jesus as tears rolled down His face. He did love my brother! Why had He not come?

After that it was almost as if we were walking in a dream. We went to the tomb. Jesus told us to move the stone while ignoring the scoffing followers. And when Jesus called "Lazarus come out!" A rumbling began from the depth of the earth. A vibration was semt up into my body where my teeth because to chatter. Then all was quiet. Silent Then my brother walked out! Never would I doubt His faithfulness, compassion, and love.

Someone pushed into me. I fell into the dust. The cloud chocked me, and there were feet all around. Afraid I might be trampled, I quickly rose to catch a last glimpse of Jesus before the crowd swallowed him.

The last time I had been with Jesus, I knew something was coming for Him. I didn't know how to put what I felt into words. An end of sorts was coming. I had to do something before it came to tell Him how much I loved Him! How could I show him before it was too late. The urgency pounded in my head as my hands shook. Then I remembered the nard I had been saving. For what I never knew, but I  had a feeing it would change everything. Tripping over my own feet I ran to grab it, as I walked towards Him, I admit I began to doubt. Something dark whispered in my ear. Softly at first. "You will make a fool of yourself! They will throw you out of His presence! Why waste such a gift?" But I pushed through. I kept walking. I broken open the jar and pour out my heart to Him. Where words seemed finite and not enough, I hoped that this offering might speak what my heart was crying.

Then the darkness took on a voice I knew well. Judas. "What a waste!" I looked over at him and blinked. For a moment...I could have sworn I saw.... Darkness and shadows. Wrapping around his body. When he spoke again, my blood ran cold. "Why not sell this and give the profit to the poor?"

Then Jesus spoke. The minute He spoke the darkness fled. I swear I thought I heard...maybe...a shriek? "Let her alone. She is anticipating and honoring the day of my burial. You will always have the poor with you. You don't always have me."

Then I knew. The words..... burial....you won't always have me. I knew.

As the crowd thinned as they followed the man they thought would soon be king, I caught a smell that made my heart leap and then drop at the same time. The perfume. The scent still lingered when I poured out my offering. When I wiped his feet with my hair. Anointing Him for burial.  He was finishing what He had started. An end not a beginning. I knelt down in the dirt and dust and watched as my tears gathered in a puddle beneath.

A king? A conqueror of Rome. How could I have been so wrong? Perhaps I was? He would be King! Hope bloomed in my chest. But something wasn't right although the word King rang true. I looked to the sky. Passover would begin soon. There was much to do. This was the time to thank God above for delivering us from the Egyptians. By the blood of the lamb, we were saved as the angel of death would not touch us if the blood covered us. A flash of red flew through my mind. The smell of blood. Something was coming. Something that would change the world forever. I thought I knew what was happening. Now I am not so sure. But one thing I do know. This man holds the keys to death. I had seen the darkness flee from his presence. I had seen it power gone with the opening of his mouth. I didn't know what was happening, but I did know whatever it was and for whatever reason, Jesus was allowing it. He walked straight , calm, because He knew.