Miracles don’t happen every day, but my boy was proving that to be wrong.  He took a small amount of food and turned it into enough to feed five thousand – and that didn’t even include the women and children.  There were even leftovers.  It reminded me of the stories of my youth –  how God always provided for His  people as they roamed the desert after being enslaved in Egypt.

He walked on top of the sea which He’d earlier calmed with His own hand.  He healed many from all kind of illness- physical and spiritual – even calling out demons that possessed those who had lost track of God.

As He ministered to the growing crowds, He received word that His dear friend, Lazarus was ill.  He was summoned by Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha to Bethany, but didn’t go right away.  I know He had a special bond with this family, but He waited until the body was in the grave for four days.  I didn’t understand at first, but I was sure He had a reason.

When He arrived, He wept over His friend’s death.  His emotion was a natural human response, but His actions showed His divine power over it.  On that day, He called out to His friend to come forth and Lazarus did.  He was alive!

Word spread like wild fire and soon reached the spiritual leaders.  It was just the ammunition they needed to use against Jesus.  They even plotted to kill Lazarus, who had now become an eye witness to the power behind this astounding miracle.

Those same leaders began to hatch a plan to actively pursue my son and put an end to His ministry and His life.  As His mother, nothing could prepare me for what was to come.