Jesus and Me ... and the Cats

John 11:1-45   I remember the day and time my hope died.  It was June 26 th , 2018, at 5:00 pm.   I was finishing up a project in my office at Fort Madison United Methodist Church in southeast Iowa.   My cell phone rang.   It was a police officer in Savannah, Georgia, informing me that my husband Tom was dead.   After the initial shock had worn off, I raged at God.   “Where were you?!?   I put Tom in your care; I prayed for you to take care of him and protect him!”   All the hope I had invested in the future Tom and I had dreamed about was gone.   Lazarus, whose name means “God has helped,” was dead.   According to the Jewish tradition of that time, the soul stayed with the body for three days.   During those three days, healing and resurrection were a possibility.   Mary and Martha sent a message to Jesus, their dear friend, Jesus who had spent time in their home, Jesus who had a close bond with their brother, Lazarus.   Jesus was across the Jordan near the area where John the Baptis

  Brothers and Sisters, may I share something that's been on my mind for quite a while? Just because I'm a liberal doesn't mean I'm not a Christian, because I am.  Born again and spirit-filled, it is my true identity and shapes my life, my decisions and where I fall on the spectrum.  I am unafraid and unashamed to declare, "Jesus is Lord," and I pray my actions affirm my words. Just because I'm a liberal and a Christian, doesn't mean that I don't love and respect those who are different than I am, rather in religion or politics or because of country of origin or native language.  I do, because my faith informs how I see others -- created in the image of God, given divine worth by our Creator.  To judge a person for who and what they are and not accept them is to, in my book, to call God a liar. Just because I'm a Christian who happens to be a liberal, doesn't mean I don't love my country or care about the community where I live.  God