I’ve been thinking a lot about resuscitation and resurrection. I’ve been thinking about how subtly different they are. I’ve been thinking about what Jesus did. I’ve been thinking about what I desperately need.
To resuscitate means to revive from unconsciousness.
Resurrection is the act of rising from the dead.
I heard a pastor make this additional distinction between the two. Resuscitation brings the person back to their original state, whereas resurrection brings the person back transformed.
Every single day, I need little resuscitations. I constantly need to be revived in my physical state, so I sleep, I drink a smoothie, I take a walk, I breathe in deeply. I continually need to be revived in my parenting, so that I’m consistent, strong, patient, yet gentle…all so that I have the energy to remember that I am choosing the harder role of mother first over the easier role of friend. And I most definitely need to be revived in my emotional life, as lately I’m allowing sadness to be my guide.
Oh, but what I need so very much more is resurrection of my soul. There is a dying going on in my life, a grieving as well. But along with those things comes a promise that there is new life on other side. The other side for me might be years away, I don’t know, but there is another side. I will not remain dead. {I will not even remain “mostly dead”, to quote from Princess Bride.}
So I wait for my personal resurrection. I long for it. I hold onto the hope of the transformation that will accompany it, but I hope for something even better than that. That the One who is my Resurrecter is all-knowing, all-seeing, all-loving and himself a resurrected One, so he knows what he’s doing in me.
