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Crookston Times - Crookston, MN
Finding the sacred in everyday life
Day 39: The day it seems hope goes dark
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About this blog
Marketta Gregory never meant to be a columnist. \x34I trained to be a newspaper reporter -- one who tried to her best to be objective. I covered religion for a few years and felt like it was the best job a curious woman like me could ever have. ...
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Simply Faithful
Marketta Gregory never meant to be a columnist. \x34I trained to be a newspaper reporter -- one who tried to her best to be objective. I covered religion for a few years and felt like it was the best job a curious woman like me could ever have. Every day I got to listen as people told me about the things that were most important to them, the things that were sacred. But the newspaper industry was changing and few papers could afford to have an army of speciality reporters. So, I moved to cover the suburbs where, as luck would have it, they have plenty of religion, too. Eventually, children came into the picture. One by birth and another two months later by foster care/adoption. I struggled to chase breaking news and be home at a decent hour, so I made the move to what we journalists call the dark side: I took a job in public relations. (Don't worry. I work for a great non-profit, so it's not dark at all.) When I gave my notice at the Rochester (NY) Democrat and Chronicle, the executive editor asked me to consider writing a column on a freelance basis. She didn't want the newspaper to lose touch with its religious sources, and she still wanted consistent faith coverage. I was terrified. It took me about 10 months to get back to her with a solid plan and some sample columns. And so it began, this journey of opening up my heart to strangers.\x34
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By simplyfaithful
March 29, 2013 11:47 a.m.



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She slipped it into an envelope and through the mail, just on the chance that I’d include poetry in our Lenten project. She wrote how in 2012 a sudden, puzzling illness put her on life support. How her husband was told to prepare for her death. How this poem tells her story, the story of Rosanne Stiehler.

Like Lazarus,

I was breath-less,

bound up for the grave.

 

Like Lazarus,

my family wept,

four long days.

 

“Lord, if You would come,

she could still be saved!”

 

Like Lazarus,

the Lord showed up,

“Come forth!” is what He prayed.

 

Like Lazarus,

that vital shout

gave me life again.

 

Today, when all feels dark, He can give us all life again. When the past-due notices come on bills and relationships and old harmful habits, know that it’s not too late to start over. Know that Jesus, He paid it all.

May this holy weekend help make you whole.

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