BURY THE DEAD

¹³And he spake unto Ephron in the audience of the people of the land, saying, But if thou wilt give it, I pray thee, hear me: I will give thee money for the field; take it of me, and I will bury my dead there
Genesis 23:13

I was having a hard day again.

It seems to happen at the most inopportune times, amidst the chaos of appointments and holidays, and always before Mother’s Day. The past comes creeping in like a predator in the night. Without warning it’s standing right before me and I appease it with a plate full of resentment and a side dish of anger. I let it stay for a while as I continue to offer it the comfort of victimhood and sprinkle in a few dashes of hurtful words toward everyone around me.

By the time I decide I need God’s help, it’s already too late to take back a few statements I wish I had not let exit my mouth. “Next time I’ll do better,” I tell myself as I open my Bible and utter a quick apology prayer to God about my bitterness and not guarding my mind.

God was not going to let me get away with it that easy this time.

As I opened God’s word to Genesis 23

Just 27 years after Sarah has her only son, she passes away. Abraham goes in search of a place to bury his wife. He comes to a cave and asks for the price so he may bury his dead. Ephron wants to give Abraham the cave but Abraham insists that he pay for it.

13 And he spake unto Ephron in the audience of the people of the land, saying, But if thou wilt give it, I pray thee, hear me: I will give thee money for the field; take it of me, and I will bury my dead there

It is in that verse I felt God so very clearly whisper the words to me:

The truth was, I DID need to BURY THE DEAD. I needed to bury the parts of my life that were no longer in existence. They were old, done, gone, dead. They were the parts of my life that had been forgiven. The parts of my past that I had claimed I had extended forgiveness in. But I kept resurrecting those dead places within my mind.

What happens when you don’t bury the dead?

Well, it’s not pretty.

My teen boys recently had a pig die on the farm they work at. The butcher didn’t come in time to make good use of the meat and for days that pig lay there in the blazing sun. One day my boys arrived at the farm and the men hired to work on the fence were no longer working on the fence. They were digging a hole…a BIG one! They could no longer stand the stench of the rotting pig. My boys grabbed a couple of shovels and a five-foot hole later they dropped that smelly pig into the pit and quickly covered it back up.

Finally, some relief from the stench.

Finally, some relief from the sight.

Finally, some relief from the flies.

That’s what happens when we don’t bury the dead. That includes our past. As painful as it is and as much as we think we need to keep it within arms reach it begins to release an odor of filth that permeates our lives.

Abraham realized that burying Sarah would come at a price, but he was willing to pay it.

Sometimes burying our past can feel like it comes at a very high cost. Forgiveness is highly costly to those who have given it. We release our right to hold it over our offender. We release our right to bring it back up. We release our right to dwell on the situation. But it’s when we do that WE finally get released!

Released from reliving those painful experiences.

Released from the need to control vengeance.

Release from the bondage of bitterness.

So, what do you say my friend? Would you like to join me as I pick up a shovel and start digging? To be quite honest, I think I may need a little more than a five-foot hole. But, the deeper I delve, the harder it will be to dig it back up!