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LUKE 7:11-17
Trudging, wailing, weeping our way
to the cemetery
to bury the widow’s son,
and pondering the consequences
of his death.
A son’s supposed to be there
to care for a widowed mother;
who else will do it?
And then this healer
blocked our path,
not in a confronting way:
a kind word for the widow
and a hand on the litter!
We froze.
“Young man, I say to you, rise.”
We nearly dropped it:
the corpse sat up and spoke!
A thought dawned
and with it relief;
he’ll care for his mother.
Our fearful silence was broken
by an eruption
of praise of the holy One,
a sense of Godly favour,
and an affirmation of the healer
igniting the rapid spread of a good word
about him.
        © Jeff Shrowder, 2013.
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