The 11th chapter of the book of John in the New Testament is chock full of stuff. It is quite possibly one of my favorite chapters in the Bible. Not only do we read that Jesus wept over someone he dearly loved, but he eventually brought that loved one back to life. This loved one, Lazarus, had a couple of sisters who would say that the son of God took his own sweet time getting back to help out, but I think it’s clear that Jesus knew exactly what He was doing. Jump ahead with me to the 12th chapter. John mentioned Lazarus in this chapter on three separate occasions and always followed it up with “whom Jesus had raised from the dead.” I just love that. Before Lazarus’ death, he’s a regular sandal-wearing guy going about his business and now, he’s the most popular guy in town. Everybody knows about him. Everybody wants to meet him. Everybody wants to hear his account of the story. This act, a rather huge act, mind you, is what now defines Lazarus. And that is often what happens to us. There are things that happen to us or because of us that people remember. I’m the woman people talk about when infidelity comes up in marriages. Some would say that I shouldn’t let something like the near death of my marriage define me. And while I agree with that to an extent, I don’t mind that people know me because of my story. Because of God’s redemptive story. So, while I don’t necessarily want to be known only as Cindy, the woman who forgave her husband for his unfaithfulness, I certainly don’t mind being known as Cindy, the Christ-following woman who surrendered her life so that the glory of God would be displayed. What it is that defines you?