It’s a serious threat heard in action movies and a harmless one occasionally between friends. If you Google it you might get 215 million results with a few video clips that probably wouldn’t be edifying so don’t even go there.
“You’re a dead man!” Have you heard it? Have you said it?,
You are (or were) a dead man or woman.
I was a heart pumping. inhaling, good-not-good-enough prisoner.
Good as dead.
Sentenced for my sin.
But God made a Way in Jesus placing upon Him the debt I could not pay.
He took upon himself the punishment I deserve. For the lies. For the pride. Because I hated you as much as I loved me. I was no innocent child. Behind the freckles and pigtails and cute little wire-rim glasses was a girl born hell bent to have her own way. Make her own way if she must. I was four days in the grave stinkin’ up the whole place dead in my sin.
And He was right there in the middle of all my self-sufficient mess, calling me forth from that grave and dressing me new in Him.
I’m alive now.
I. Am. Alive.
I’ve known Him for so long; sometimes I forget what I was without Him.
Lazarus was a dead man. D.E.A.D. Dead. And Jesus was right there to bring him back to life. Death was no match for Jesus; he called him forth from that grave and dressed him new with the testimony of a resurrection.
And then we read this:
On account of Lazarus many believed in Jesus.
I sit in a hospital room and waiting room and doctor’s office and I hear it. The praises of white coats and scrubs; hands that heal with knives and needles and knowledge. Belief rolls off the lips of the ones made well.
What more then for the Resurrector?
The One who makes dead me and dead you alive again with a Word.
We come forth healed whole and belief rolls off our lips.
They will hear it and see it. On account of you and me many will believe.
With simple words many will believe. With a song they will believe. With a smile they will believe. With kind words they will believe. With love they will believe.