Not Lent but Given: The Here I AMPavyzdys

“Raised Thrice” Mary raised God’s Son. In a place below the angel yet well-above ground, she communed with God. Mary fed her Savior the pure, unadulterated milk from within, not without; unaware, perhaps, she too was supping. Unaware she had birthed a living host. Not long after, and for some, not soon enough, God’s Son was raised again. This time, by strangers. Filled by an inner, unseen darkness of a different kind, these men leavened Christ to a place even higher. Where from there - below her Savior, beneath her Son’s two bound feet, a magnificently common Mary wept a different sort of tear. The moment she did, joy came into mourning. Weak, bloodied, and gasping out the breath He purged to resuscitate man; God’s simultaneous invitation wed Christ’s offering of thanksgiving. We were found, because He bled.