Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. It was Mary who anointed the Lord with ointment and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was ill. So the sisters sent to him, saying, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." But when Jesus heard it he said, "This illness does not lead to death. It is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it."Jesus waits, waits until Lazarus is clearly, hopelessly dead, rotting and stench-laden. He waits so that the glory of God may be displayed— that much is certain. Yet it can also be argued that He waits for a complementary reason— because He loves Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. He makes them need a miracle.
Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So, when he heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
When Jesus asks Martha if she believes He is the resurrection, "She said to him, 'Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world'" (John 11:27). Her answer is safe and orthodox; it lacks nothing in truth and everything in hope. She can believe in Him for eternity, but not for her life or her losses. She doesn't dare let herself hope for His intervention in the here-and-now.
So too the stinking corpses of my own life, the things I've given up hope on. What does it mean for Him to call them forth, even and especially the small and mundane ones? What does it mean for me to stray from the safe "faith" that keeps Him away from those, placing His power and healing in the far future and trying to bite back my grief and ignore the stench? What does it mean to have faith that inspires hope?
I struggle with the ordinary things, to a sometimes embarrassing degree (odd how I find myself being embarrassed more and more often). For example, I'm coming to grips with the need to get healthier, yet something about that simple thing almost shuts me down. Considering some of the other things I'm willing to wrestle with, it seems silly the ways I get hung up on normal life.
Gattaca is on; maybe one of the perfect movies for my motivation and definitely one of my favorites.
I was never more certain of how far away I was from my goal than when I was standing right beside it.
You are the authority on what is not possible, aren't you Irene? They've got you looking for any flaw, that after a while that's all you see. For what it's worth, I'm here to tell you that it is possible. It is possible.
You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back.
—Vincent Freeman, Gattaca