Have you ever raised someone from the dead? I bet you have. And you don’t realize you did it. Because it didn’t look like an episode of “Walking Dead,” or some type of zombie apocalypse film.

I would even wager to say you didn’t know they were dead. Because they looked like someone full of life to the untrained eye, but were dying a slow, undetectable death on the inside.

Just like the “box of chocolates” from the film “Forest Gump,” the only way to know what is on the inside of a person is to engage with them.

Many people keep what they REALLY feel locked away safely on the inside because of fear of rejection. They wear the costume of a happy, normal, vibrant life like an Academy Award-winning actor. It’s how we “fit in.”

This morning, I came across a story where Jesus told his disciples to “raise the dead.” I always thought that meant pulling someone out of the grave like he did with his friend Lazarus. But the Greek word translated into English as “raise” simply means to lift up. And “dead” can mean a corpse. But it usually means someone or something devoid of life.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. He was telling his posse to find people who are hopeless, numb, paralyzed with fear, addicted, or emotionally shut down. And water them back to health.

Thanks to the pandemic, the world is a target-rich environment for those who have better lifesaving skills than David Hasselhoff in Baywatch. We don’t have to travel far to find someone who is dying on the inside. There might be one in your inbox or text message list right now. The question is: will we stop for a second and render aid?

They walk among us, the emotional zombies. And the best cure is the words we say and the words we write.

Because our words are a two-edged sword. They can be powerful weapons of destruction. But they can also be a potent elixir of life. A wise man once said that the power of both life and death are in the tongue.

Bringing someone back from the dead is EASY. It could look like asking a cashier or server how their day is going. Because they might feel unseen and insignificant. A text message to a friend or family member can be a defibrillator to a heart that has shriveled in depression.

I wonder how many dead people are on Medium.

Could your next post be the lifesaving device that saves a dying writing career? How many claps does it take to revive a withered author? We blow the flower. And have no idea where the seeds land. Or how much life we can bring to a dry and thirsty emotional landscape.

Take a deep breath. And blow some life today. Scatter what you have to the winds. Someone has been waiting for you to arrive.

Did this post make you take pause and consider for a minute? That’s a good thing.