Griefy Proclamations of Resurrection

Today, I was in a clergy meeting where we were asked who our favorite disciple was. I didn't even think: Mary Magdalene, of course! Except then I had to say why. I joke sometimes, that if we really read the Bible literally only women should be preachers because the first preacher was a woman or group of women (depending on which Gospel you read). Women were the first to proclaim resurrection, and isn't proclaiming resurrection what we do when we preach a sermon?

Except I didn't answer the question with my little joke. Instead, I said I relate to Mary Magdalene's grief. 

What? 

Believe me, I was also surprised by this answer as it came out of my mouth. Yes, I have noticed Mary Magdalene’s grief in my writing before, but this was an ice-breaker with folks who would, like me, describe Mary Magdalene as more fierce than griefy. But Mary Magdalene in her grief had to be near Jesus's body, she had to maintain some kind of connection to him even though he was dead, because she didn't know how to live without him. She knew his body wasn't him, and I don't believe she knew he would be resurrected at least not so soon, so in the meantime she needed something of him to hold onto. She needed to maintain that connection between them. And I know a little of what that grief feels like. Even with my two living children now, I feel like I am constantly reaching out, constantly trying to figure out a way to maintain connection with my lost babies.

Today is the seventh anniversary of our first due date. I was still hopeful on that first due date that we would have living children, but after seven more months without a pregnancy that hope was fading. Of course, seven years later I do have living children, and they are so much younger than I planned or dreamed. But they keep me so busy and even distracted so that the grief is not as forceful as it was even though it is always present. Today we didn't have time to have cupcakes like I usually do; I didn't even talk to my older son about his lost siblings. Instead I tried to love that first lost baby by loving my living children. And there's a sermon in that.