Mary got up with that fluid movement that makes her look a teenager, and ran to Jesus and threw herself down at his feet – but as I panted up, I heard her words and they were only what I had said: ‘I thought you loved my brother – if only you had been here, he wouldn’t have died.’
And his mouth began to work, and his eyes, already worried and sad, filled with tears. And Jesus put his hand over his working mouth, over his trembling lips, and the tears ran down his face. And I thought: ‘We have asked too much. I did not know this would cost him as it does. I thought he could do it all for free. I thought it was easy, But it isn’t.’ I saw, suddenly, the terrible price he paid. He smiled so when he forgave and he healed, and he made it look so simple and carefree. I had not guessed before that it was not. That there was a price he paid.