It was an odd sensation, wishing I could see the face they saw.

Every one of us, tired, empty and needing to be filled but, not knowing with what or how.

We met for a Bible study, led by me because the volunteer had other things.

Four women and I.

I followed the guide, the chapter on “What Jesus Did” and we all scribbled notes in boxes for responses.

What do you think?  How would you answer?

I give the answers, they agree and then we turn to John 11.

I break out into story, song, and enthusiastic all sorts of reading, followed by hands moving in elaboration.

I’m Martha, I told them.

Martha who gave up, ran out searching, frantic, anxious, trying to get everything just so.

While Mary sits, their brother has died.

Jesus is his friend; but, he didn’t get there in time.  Martha told him so.

I’m reading scripture and we’re talking about believing.

I read about Jesus’s tears and we talk about it.

Jesus wept.

We wondered why he cried.  We all, me and four women who live in a shelter I make possible,  talked about why Jesus cried.

I can hardly take this in.

Then we read, me pausing to say “Can’t you just see this?”  and let me tell you about the time I felt like this.

A time I just could not see through and I looked up, looked out across open and empty sky and I prayed,

“Lord, show me your glory.”

Because I needed to see what I had decided was impossible to be.

And, sometimes, I told them I pray this again, adding

Please…

“Lord, please show me your glory.”

and I’m wishing now as I remember tonight,

That I could see my face the way their faces saw me.

When I got excited about why I love Martha more than Mary.

And I led us off the Bible study bullet list plan and we all veered off, captivated by glory.

Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” John 11:40