The Weight of Grief in the Garden

When He rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, He found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow. – (Luke 22:45, NIV)

When He finished praying, He went to His followers. He found them asleep, worn out from their grieving.  – (Luke 22:45, ERV)

When Jesus finished praying, He got up and went to His disciples and found them all asleep, for they were exhausted and overwhelmed with sorrow. – (Luke 22:45, TPT)

I am not sure why I have not ever noticed the phrasing of Luke’s account of what took place in the Garden of Gethsemane before, but why the disciples fell asleep, becomes far more relate-able somehow. The disciples had every reason to be grieving, for they had shared their final meal with Jesus, heard His last words of wisdom, sung their last hymn together, and then heard that one among them would betray Him and another would deny Him… That is some serious heaviness to hold. How often do we find ourselves in the same sort of space? There  are times that the grief is too great, and even as we try to pray, exhaustion takes over, and sleep finds a welcomed win. The disciples, though Jesus had told them what would take place, could likely not wrap their hearts and minds around it all. They were in the throes of the suffering and sorrow-filled part, and could not yet see the glorious hope that would come after the horror Jesus was about to endure. Incredibly, Jesus continued to pray. When Judas and his entourage of Sanhedrin and soldiers arrived to have Jesus arrested, Jesus continued to love as He healed the ear that an over-zealous disciple cut off in His defense. He went willingly, without argument nor needed force, for love led Him to the cross at Calgary.

I paused writing to go run, and ended up having a great discussion about the potential disparity between the four accounts of the disciples’ time in the garden. My running bestie is a nurse, so she reminded me that Luke was a doctor. Between us, we recognized that the other accounts were recorded by fishermen, who likely felt bad for falling asleep, and simply recorded that alone. Luke, however, from a physician’s standpoint, was the most likely to recognize the toll that grief and sorrow take on the body, and reported the occurrence accordingly. Like me, she had not ever noticed the difference in the accounts of what took place, but together, we discussed how it indeed made sense. Many of us find ourselves in a similar space of grief or sorrow. There is loss that we are uncertain how to process, and that weighs heavily, no matter how much we pray. Perhaps this forced slow down season is meant for more than just protecting ourselves from the further spread of a pandemic; maybe, just maybe, this is a season where we are to allow our bodies to sleep when we can fight it no longer, rest up, reflect on what truly matters, and rise up renewed and refreshed, as Jesus carried it all for us and rose again. May we give ourselves grace in our moments of sorrow, grief and exhaustion, and look to the Lord who is the One who strengthens, renews and grants us what we need to rise up restored, once again.

In grief’s heaviness,

Sculpture by Celeste Roberge

We’re burdened and worn;

Exhausted and spent,

In sorrow, forlorn.

Our bodies in need,

Of overdue rest;

Sometimes a shut down,

When sleep is the best.

God knows all our needs,

He loves us with grace;

Refreshes, renews,

And brings brighter days.

Dear Heavenly Father, thank You that You sent Your Son to show us Your goodness and grace, even in humanity’s most exhausted spaces. Thank You that You love us back to life again, even when our weariness from loss steals our resolve to rise and fight. Forgive us for thinking that we can somehow power through things without giving room for grief. Teach us to lean into You to show us how to properly process, rest and rise again in all that You are calling us to do. Lead us to love others well, so that their burdens may be lessened and their sorrow’s shortened. May many come into a lasting relationship with You. Be glorified O God, as we come to You in our heaviness and seek You for rest and refreshment as You restore and renew us in You. Amen.

© Shannon Elizabeth Grabrick and Revelations in Writing, May 2011 – present

My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to Your word. – Psalm 119:28

Our Very Best Yes

While He was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on His head. – (Mark 14:3, NIV) 

Jesus was in Bethany at the house of Simon the leper. While He was eating there, a woman came to Him. She had an alabaster jar filled with expensive perfume made of pure nard. She opened the jar and poured the perfume on Jesus’ head. – (Mark 14:3, ERV)

Now Jesus was in Bethany, in the home of Simon, a man Jesus had healed of leprosy. And as He was reclining at the table, a woman came into the house, holding an alabaster flask. It was filled with the highest quality of fragrant and expensive oil. She walked right up to Jesus, and with a gesture of extreme devotion, she broke the flask and poured out the precious oil over His head. – (Mark 14:3, TPT)

 

The gospels don’t say much about the Wednesday of Holy Week. We know that Jesus remained in Bethany that day, so it is likely that the account of the meal at Simon the Leper’s house took place on that particular day. Additionally, there had to have been many behind-the-scenes preparations going on for the Last Supper, as well as Judas and his scheming with the Sanhedrin about Jesus’ arrest. The portion of passage that I pondered the most, was the account of the woman who came with her expensive perfume to anoint Jesus. In John’s telling of what had taken place, he names Mary as the woman, and adds that she had anointed Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair. Interestingly, she likely did both. Fragrant nard was such a coveted and valuable commodity, normally, a little dab would have done just fine. However, Mary was clearly choosing to sacrifice the best of what she had out of obedience to God’s leading. A dear friend of mine has a white board in her kitchen that reads: What is my very best YES? For Mary, clearly this was hers. She cared not what anyone thought of her decision, and she simply proceeded in faith to that which she felt led to do. Jesus affirmed her choice and admonished her when a few of those present questioned the sanity and wisdom in what she had done. He let her know the beauty in her “YES”, and that it would always be remembered. My takeaway is simply, what is my very best “YES”? What is God asking of me, even if it does not make sense? Is there a sacrifice to make, a step out in faith, an outpouring upon one who does not “seem” to need it? Daily, this ought to be my question as I wait silently, anticipating an answer. No matter how great or small, my prayer is that I would be willing and ready to say yes to whatever it is that God would ask of me.

 

O Lord, here I wait,

As I ask of You;

What is the best “YES”,

You’d have me to do?

Help me be willing,

Listen and obey;

Bring honor to You,

As I walk Your way.

Lead me and guide me,

Grant me strength to trust;

Empower each “YES”,

Kind, faithful and just.

Help me to choose live,

By faith, willingly;

May each best “yes” hold,

Generosity.

 

Dear Heavenly Father, thank You that You sent Your Son to show us the way to live in right relationship with You. Thank You that Jesus recognized and admonished Mary’s sacrifice in front of the disciples to show them that a heart willing to say “Yes” is beautiful to You. Forgive us for the times that we have not said “yes” to the best that You had for us, or we were unwilling to step out in faith. Teach us to trust You, always. Show us how to keep moving forward, choosing the best “YES” in all things and at all times. Lead us to love those around us well, so that they might understand the depth and breadth of Your incredible love, just for them. May many come into a lasting relationship with You. Be glorified O God, as we choose daily, to give You our very best “YES”. Amen.

 

© Shannon Elizabeth Grabrick and Revelations in Writing, May 2011 – present

 

Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. – John 12:3

The Power of His Name

When the time had come,

and prayers were all said,

a band of soldiers,

by Judas were led.

Into the garden,

priests and Pharisees,

with torches and swords,

to find Nazarene.

Because He did know,

that for Him they came;

He met them and spoke,

let them know His Name.

As the group asked Him,

to confirm they’d found;

with power He spoke,

they fell to the ground!

Such grace-filled courage,

Jesus did display;

what was coming, known,

He chose to obey.

‘Twas His great love,

He willingly went;

the path had been set,

His life to be spent.

Because He answered,

He heeded the call;

we now have the key,

forgiveness for all.

(Responding to John 18:1-6)

Dear Jesus, I cannot even begin to fathom the depth of Your great love for us, as You stood before the soldiers, who were there to take You to Your death. I am in awe of not only Your power, but their response to it. Though I have read this passage many times, this is the first time that I could actually see, in my mind’s eye, the group who had come to arrest You, falling to the ground as You spoke Your Name! Thank You for willingly walking the long and painful road to Calvary, and for taking our sin and shame upon Yourself, so that we may be released from the blame. Thank You for defeating death, so that we might have life. Though we deserve it not, thank You. Please forgive us for the moments when our words and deeds deem that we do not know You. Teach us to live and love as we are called to do, and may we be vessels from which Your goodness and grace are poured out upon those who know you not yet, Your embrace. Heavenly Father, may many come to know just how great Your love is, and may they forever choose to follow You. Amen.

© Shannon Elizabeth Moreno and Revelations in Writing, May 2011 – present