Martha’s Faith


You did not come to her, Lord, in the garden

Lush, and green, and cool

In the dazzling, gentle glory

Of the rising sun

In the morning.

She did not find you, suddenly

Transforming boundless grief into

Wonder and joy

With the sound of her name.



You came to her down the hard, dry road

Covered by the midday traveler’s dust

In the beating, merciless sun

of the heat of the day

At noon.

She met you on this road,

Bone-weary and overcome

From days and nights of waiting, watching

When you did not come.


And You meet her,

too late

With the same grief, and tears

That she carries to You

Too heavy for her to bear alone

And still hoping, somehow,

That you can make it right.


And you ask of this woman,

Weary, dry, heavy with the heat

of this merciless sun

and crushed under the weight

of this impossible burden…

you ask of her

What you did not ask of Mary,

In the cool, green glory of the garden:

Do you believe

that I am the Resurrection

And the Life?

That I alone am the source

Of all that you seek and desire?”


Where did she find the courage

The faith,

The strength to answer?

With no external aid,

No visible salvation

No clear proof of fulfilment?

No angels, and sunrise of glory

No dazzling wounds, and love-spoken name?


-If not for You.

Simply having You there

Allows her to be, to remain

Not alone.

And the trust she has in Your Person

Can somehow, in that moment

Be all that matters

Once more giving you that “Fiat”

Required to clear the space

For Your divine action.


She doesn’t understand

She isn’t given to see

The miracle beforehand

She simply needs to say,

“Yes, Lord… I believe

That You are the One.”

Do what You will.


Thank you for reminding me

When I feel far away from the garden

That You can still find me

Can still meet me powerfully

In the dusty blindness

Of this road

And speak new life

Within this dryness.


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