The associated reading for this reflection can be found in your Every Sacred Sunday Mass journal or online here.
Today’s readings are filled with the weight of grief, the hope of miracles, and the reality of death. The first three months of this year have seen streams of tears, confusion, and a renewed sense of faith. Life feels full of juxtapositions.
At the beginning of this year, one of my best friends lost her 5 year old son, Micah Kim. My kids lost a friend who was like family, and I lost a child who stood on my countertops, whom I carried countless times after a backyard clash or broke up fights over who had which hot wheel first. It’s not the first time I’ve lost someone, but it is the first time I’ve lost someone I truly believe ran to Heaven waving a golden ticket straight to sainthood. A firm belief in Heaven, however, does not erase the ache in my heart. It’s confusing to believe something with all certainty and still have a chest weighed down with questions and sorrow. The tension is palpable. I wonder if it was palpable in front of Lazarus’ tomb, too, as Martha professed her faith through the sobs.
I mean, Jesus brought Lazarus back from the dead! He knew the resurrection was coming, but He still wept. This, the shortest verse in the Bible, brings consolation to my heart.
He gives us permission to believe in the resurrection with our whole minds and still ache with our whole hearts.
If you’re anything like me and managing kids in your pew during Mass, the verse before the Gospel can be easy to miss, but today it hits me like a freight train:
“I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord;
whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will never die.”
That right there is real hope. It's an assurance that my kids have a “saint best friend” because Micah is alive in Christ. I say that with a smile on my face and tears in my eyes. My heart breaks for my friends, for our community, and this surreal reality. As a Martha, I find myself wondering what I can do. I want to fix something, to understand “why,” and I can’t. Then I read that amidst her own grief for her brother, Mary once again runs to sit at her Lord’s feet. It makes me wonder: where am I running to? He is not asking me to resolve the mystery. He’s asking me to kneel before it. I feel a pain so sharp because the love is so deep.
Micah’s life taught me love, and his loss pushes me toward heaven.
If you’re learning to kneel before these mysteries too, I’ll leave you with lyrics to a song I’ve been meditating on lately:
“What’s true in the light is still true in the dark. You’re good and you’re kind and you care for this heart. Lord, I believe that you weep with me.” - Rend Collective, Weep with Me
Viva Crouse is a wife, mom to 4, COO and lead trainer at Hypuro Fit. She's an advocate for women to become strong physically and spiritually so when God calls them to act, they can say "yes, Lord, I'm ready." When she's not chasing kids or changing diapers you can find her reheating creamy coffee, working out with friends, reading her latest book club novel, or dreaming of a salty margarita by the beach. You can find out more about what she does here!
