We are quick to surrender that which we deem as long dead, when God is quick to restore that which He deems as never really having lived.

What if the empty tomb was simply God saying that the miracle that happened there is just a foretaste of the miracles that can happen within us? And if that’s the case, nothing within us is really dead. Rather, it’s just a bunch of stuff waiting its turn to stand up and breathe again.

I would ask two questions. The first is, “How is that which is dead within me any different from anything else that God has raised from the dead?” And the second question would be, “How is His passion to raise the dead within me any different than His passion to raise anything else that He has raised?” And the answer to both is “It is not and it is not.” So, am I ready to be raised or am I not?

To deny the battle is unwise. To believe that I can fight it without God is insane. To actually do so is suicidal. No wonder so many of us walk around looking like death warmed over.

It’s not that I’ve ‘faked my own death’ as the saying goes. Maybe it’s that I’ve ‘faked my own life,’ and in doing so I’ve yet to realize how dead I really am.

To ‘live’ and to ‘grow’ are synonymous with each. For one without the other doesn’t mean that we’re dead, but it certainly means that we’re not living. And truth be told, I don’t know that there’s a whole lot of space between the two.

We are a stubborn people at times, having collided with greatness, yet finding ourselves attempting to revive all the dead things that had gratefully and mercifully perished in the colliding.

The world screams, ‘Stay down, it’s safer.’ My soul screams, ‘So is being dead.