Sunday

And so I went on the Saturday. The in-between day. I've never done that before. I always followed the rules. It's the Sunday, that day when the good has come, that you worship. That you praise. That you believe. And that has been the way I have always done it. But that isn't what He has called me too. I'm learning that sometimes you have to praise long before you see the resurrection. You have to trust long before you see the evidence of your faith. Because seeing doesn't requires faith. But this certainly does. And I woke up thinking about the grave and the two times I know God emptied it. Two. And both times the grave clothes had to be removed. When He called Lazarus from the grave, he still had to remove the clothes that bound him in death. And Jesus did as well. And perhaps I do too. The old way is gone. Something new is happening. And I can be alive as I want to be and still be bound. By the old. By the grave clothes. But I don't belong in that place anymore. And I have to remove what hinders to go forward. And it's scary walking out of that and into the new. But after three years, I don't belong in this place anymore. The stone is rolled away. Shake off the old. Because that girl, that one who went in, she isn't here. Thankful.