MARY THE FAITHFUL
33 AD – Death of Lazarus – Bethany, Judea
The winter again was not as harsh than last year and spring seem to have sprung up a little early in Judea. But the air was still a bit cold when Mary returned home with her two companions from Galilee. She had spent three wonderful months with Mariam, the mother of Jesus.
Mariam had taken Mary under her wing. From her, Mary was told an incredible story of how she was visited by an angel of the Lord. From that meeting, Mariam was told what the Lord God had intended and as intended, she became pregnant. The incredible part was that she was a virgin.
Jesus had been focusing his ministry in and around Nazareth and Capernaum. Whenever, Jesus was there, Mary had taken every opportunity learn more about him, the kingdom and eternal life. She even learned of things that Jesus only reserved to his closest disciples. For her, it was heaven.
When she alighted from the wagon, her father emerged from the house.
“Abba,” she hugged him. “It is good to be home.”
The two women approached them.
“Abba, you remember Mary of Magdala. And this is Joanne. Her husband is Chuza…”
“Oh yes… he is Antipas’ finance manager, I recall,” Simon said. “Ladies… please enter our home. I must talk to my daughter.” He led her to the side as her companions entered.
“Mary, I miss you so much. I almost regretted sending you to Galilee… almost.” Simon smiled then he hugged her again. “Before we go into the house, I have to tell you that your brother is very… very ill.”
Mary rushed into the house with her father not too far behind. She passed her two companions who clearly sensed something was wrong. She went up to the third level to her brother’s room. She paused before his door, took a breath and then entered.
Lazarus was covered from neck to foot with bed covers and blankets. His hair was flattened down in sweat. His glistening face was incredibly pallored to the point that he already resembled a corpse. It was only by his shallow breathing that Mary knew he was still alive. Martha was there laying a damp towel on his head.
“He has been asking for you, Mary,” Martha said.
“I wish I knew he was ill, or else I would have come earlier,” she said as they hugged each other. “How is he?”
“I feel much better, now that you are here,” Lazarus said as he smiled weakly. Then he fell back to sleep.
Martha took Mary to the far end of the room and whispers, “He is not getting better. I fear the worse. Where is the Master? Father had been sending messengers far and wide.”
“He and the Twelve are somewhere in the Perean region.”
“Then, I must inform Father, so he can send messengers. You stay and keep him cool.”
“Of course, sister.”
Martha quietly left the room.
“I am here, brother.”
Mary went to his bed and replaced the the damp cloth on his head. He asked her for some news and she told him of the happenings of Capernaum, Cana and at Nazareth, mostly places where she was. Throughout the night and several other nights, she and her companions took turns in caring for him. However, Lazarus did not get any better and there were no signs of Jesus.
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