My ulterior motive with everything is always coffee.
Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”
(Emphasis on His response)
Jesus said to her, “Mary.”
She turned toward Him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” || John 20:15b-16.
After the despair she felt. After the anger that I’m sure was beginning to resonate in her after realizing that someone must have taken her Savior’s body. When all seemed lost. When the God she clung to just days before was now gone and she felt hopeless. (How quickly we let our emotions tell us the same.) He says her name. THAT’S ALL HE SAYS, and she KNOWS. She KNOWS, because it’s the way He says it, the way He always said it, and because she has believed in His name and power. How precious life is that THE SAME GOD who spoke her name so gently, calls YOU and ME by name just the same. How powerful that we get the opportunity to respond to our Sacrifice, our Giver, our Savior, and our Redeemer, because no matter HOW alone or abandoned we FEEL, He will call us and we have every opportunity, every single day - NOT JUST TODAY - to respond to His calling. Listen close, I hear Him calling our names.
Sit in the center of a library. Somewhere where you can see people. Don’t read a book; read the people around you. See the little girl working on her math homework, the teenage boy bobbing his head to the song he is listening to, the girl across from him who cannot stop staring at him, the men with ties too tight looking at long lists of numbers, the girl hiding behind a pile of books, and the women ripping her paper in half. Somehow I now realize every person is a book with a unique story to tell.
- note to self