I remember the first time I heard someone pray for resurrection. A group had gathered at my home in Virginia to watch the Oscars. One of the women arrived with an urgent prayer request on behalf of someone she knew who had suddenly taken a turn for the worst and was dying in the hospital. We stopped to pray, each of us praying aloud. When it came time for one my friends in particular to pray aloud, she prayed: “Lord Jesus, would you reverse the effects of death? Please reverse the effects of death on [this person’s] body and give them more time.”
Reverse the effects of death?
Hearing that prayer request felt like my ears popping at altitude. It equalized the pressure in my head. Of course we hope for peace and comfort and God’s felt presence in the inevitable griefs of life. And we faithfully pray for those graces— But what is it we would ask for if we actually thought we could ask? Bare-faced, no frills:
Reverse the effects of death.
Those who know me know I have a defiant streak. It will come as no surprise that I’d embrace permission to look death in the eye and say a defiant, “No.” Beyond defiance for its own sake, though, a plea for God to reverse death resounds in me. I cling to His answer everywhere: In the daffodils. Or the butterflies. Or in this beloved little poem by Shel Silverstein that the kids in my community group at church reminded me of last year (and has been up in my cubicle ever since):
Hope is not a slightly more tolerable sidewalk. Hope is that the sidewalk ENDS.
But here’s the thing for a strong-willed gal like me when it comes to following King Jesus: Following Him costs no less than everything. To live IS Christ. Defying Him? Living separated? Is death. We die to our own hope of saving ourselves by simply turning, looking into the face of Love and receiving forgiveness for what we cannot fix: “Yes, Lord. Forgive me, breathe new life into me, set me free. I want to follow you.” The one who takes away the sins of the world (Acts 4:8-12). We are invited to follow Him to resurrected life on the other side of the cross, and through the grave.
You know what’s funny? I’ve set my iPhone keyboard to autocorrect the word “grave” to “Grace” because I accidentally type “grave” so often when I’m trying to sign emails. Grave. Grace. Figures.
Not every prayer for bodily resurrection receives fulfillment in the way we might look for it earthside, although the person we prayed for that night in Virginia did make a full recovery. Like Lazarus, those of us given our bodies back in this life will die again someday. But not the Life hidden in Christ’s Life. That one cannot be eaten by the moths or stolen by thieves. It is permanent, indestructible, a forever kind of springtime, a place of rest forever where the effects of death no longer need reversing… because resurrection is all that we are when all that we are belongs to Jesus. As a dear and wise friend has said to me: When we give Him everything, He gives us everything.
He is good, He is Love, and He lives so that you also may live.
With love & hope,
Grace
P.S. To those in need of hope this Easter: A soundtrack for you.
© 2025, Grace H Shaw