By Katy Mariotti

Heaviness

You can listen to today’s devotion by clicking on this SoundCloud link.

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day.  For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.”
2 Corinthians 4:16-18, English Standard Version

I feel like all around me there’s been a lot of death lately. Just a few short months ago it was a dear former student, one who was so very young. Then a few older church members (who were also loved ones of friends and family). And then just recently there was my own dear kind uncle. Death feels so heavy like a weight that sits with you that you can’t shake off, no matter how hard you try.  I’ve felt the urge lately to shake, to forget, to just feel light and free again.

When in Texas for my uncle’s funeral, we visited my grandmother’s cemetery. I never met my grandmother; she died when my mom was very young. But I’ve always enjoyed visiting her cemetery: a small one down a country road that you’d miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for. Somehow it makes me feel closer to her, and I also like to hear my mom talk about the farms she and her family lived in along this same country road.

When I visited the cemetery this time, I didn’t feel the weight of death. I felt a strong peace. My mom talked about her mom and her aunts and uncles and cousins who are also buried there, and as I stepped through clouds of grasshoppers and read their names, I imagined them in heaven, maybe enjoying a sunny day with lovely flowers in a green field, as I was.

Two times just in the past few weeks this passage from 2 Corinthians has come up from others on social media and the phrase “weight of glory” has struck me. Especially in contrast to the reference of our human struggles as “light momentary affliction.” In abstract, I think of peace as a lightness, a freedom. But when I’m needing comfort, it’s actually weight that is calming: a hug, a weighted blanket, even the weighted peace of truth in difficult situations.

Thank God that the heaviness we feel is only momentary, and that we can feel the weight of glory for eternity!

Copyright Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Colorado Springs, Colorado.