The Lazarus Woman

I. I am the Lazarus woman. In the Bible, growing up in the Pentecostal church, I’d often hear about Lazarus. If you’re not familiar, Lazarus was a man who was ill. Jesus had been contacted by his family, them begging and pleading, please Jesus heal him. By the time Jesus got there, the dude was dead and being buried. You’re too fucking late, they said. Jesus was like, no problem dude, I got this, and brought Lazarus back to life. He brought him back from the dead.

I’ll be honest. I had been feeling a bit down yesterday. Something about finances and financial stress that sort of brought my vibration down just a bit. Maleficent was feeling blue. Anyway, before I go on, I should mention that I am not a religious woman by any means. Not at all. But, I take wisdom from whence it comes.

So yesterday, I go to get my second cup of coffee, and my father has a preacher on by the name of Joel Osteen. Perhaps you’ve heard of him. He was talking about Lazarus. He spoke about how sometimes, we die in our life, and then the Universe comes to us, in that time, and brings us back to life. Sometimes death comes, just to bring us back to life.



In nature, death happens every winter. In winter, the flowers that bloom die. The leaves from the trees, fall from the trees in Autumn and death comes in winter. But this death, it is not a permanent one. Death comes to the flower, only for a moment. Only for a moment, and then spring comes again. And then it flourishes again. It blooms again, in all it’s fragrant glory, worshiping the sun, giving glory to mother earth and father sky. It’s life is an homage to mother earth. Curiously, the flower does not try to be a blade of grass. It does not try to be a tree, nor feels guilty for itself over it dying in the past. The flower just is what it is, and as such, it blooms.

Perhaps we can learn a lesson from nature. Perhaps we go through this. This season where things in our life die. Relationships die. Jobs, perhaps. Maybe both do, and we are left in a season of winter. We wonder, “why hasn’t my spring time come?”

We wonder this. In between the aggravation of life that bogs us down. Waiting for the phone to ring. Wondering why this happening? We become angry. Shake our fists at the Universe. Get angrier and angrier. Why me, we ask. Why this, why now.

The secret? There isn’t any. There is no secret. I hold no answers to this game of life. We hold our lives, measured against this thing called time, this thing called age, and we measure our success or lack thereof, based on the thing we had hoped to accomplish at our age. And then we age. And then we grow older. We hit the age of 40. We wonder what we did wrong.

Breathe, dear one. Just breathe. In this game of life there are often times you feel to give up, but just breathe. Just live in your space where you are right now. Live for the now. Life is so short and our lives do not come with a long life guarantee. All we can do is breathe and have hope and faith for the future. Have faith, and put hands to work. In my times in the Pentecostal church, I did learn one thing: faith without works is dead. It isn’t enough to have faith. Put one foot in front of the other and work. Work by just waking up and greeting the sun. Say hello to grandmother moon in the evening. Be grateful for the things you have. And little by little you’ll find….that there are more and more things to be grateful for.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *