The God Who Weeps with Us

 The God Who Weeps With Us

“Jesus wept.” — John 11:35

      Sometimes some of the most powerful words in the world come in small packages.  I remember the first time that I told Tiffanie that I loved her.  Those three simple words "I love you" were so powerful, healing, and would describe our marriage for fourteen years.  I also remember the powerful words "I do" when I asked her to marry me.  Our engagement was far from what I planned.  It happened in our sweatpants, in a blizzard, in her parents backyard (doesn't scream romance does it).  Other powerful words come in the form of "I'm ready" or "it's a boy."  Yes, powerful words don't have to be long speeches or well orated poems.  Scripture contains two powerful words, Jesus wept.  When I first read those two words after my wife passed, I saw them differently than ever before. I’d heard them as a child, memorized them because they were the shortest verse in the Bible — but I never understood how big those words really are.  I had preached this passage numerous times.....but for the first time I truly understood the passage.

      When Jesus stood outside the tomb of His friend Lazarus, He already knew resurrection was coming. He knew that joy was only moments away. And yet — He wept.  The Scripture doesn't tell us exactly why Jesus wept, but we know that hot tears came from the eyes of our Savior.  We believe He wept staring at death, knowing that death isn't final for the believer, but death is so stark.  Death isn't 'natural.'  By that I mean that when God created death wasn't part of the creative plan.  Yes, surely God who has foreknowledge knew Adam and Eve would sin, and He knew that the consequence would be death, not just physcially but spiritually.  He might have wept over the crowd that had been struggling to believe.  He might have wept knowing that His own death was on the horizon.  But personally I'm glad the Scripture doesn't define the exact reason why He cried.  We are left to speculate, but the only fact we have is that Jesus cried.

      That tells me something profound: God doesn’t rush our grief. He doesn’t tell us to “move on.” He stands beside us in our sorrow and feels it with us.  God doesn't stand in heaven, looking at His watch, saying "aren't you done being sad yet?"  He is a loving Father walking with us through each tidal wave of grief.  He is there when grief ambushes us, sneeks up on us during a random Tuesday for no reason.  He's there to comfort us, He's there when we laugh again, when we love again, when we struggle to get out of our bed.  He knows we are confused, depressed, battling and fighting.

      In those early days of loss, I remember wondering where God was. The house felt emptier and despite having three rowdy kids, it seemed silent.  Night times that used to be surrounded with laughter, prayers, and singing Away in a Manger became weeks of crying and hard questions with God.  The bed felt too big.....it still does. The future seemed like a fog I couldn’t walk through. But looking back, I realize He was there — not standing far away with answers, but sitting beside me in the ache.  He never once left me.

      When you feel the weight of loneliness, remember that the Savior of the world once stood at a graveside with tears in His eyes. He knows exactly what it means to love deeply and to lose.  He doesn’t just heal our pain — He honors it.  Stop.  Read that last sentence again.  He is in the business of healing, but He also honors our pain.  He, the Man of Sorrows, understand better than anyone else what we are enduring.

      And when we finally feel the first flicker of peace again, we’ll know it’s not because we ignored our grief, but because Jesus carried it with us.  Some questions to ponder, what does it mean to you that Jesus wept, even though He knew resurrection was coming?  How does that provide comfort to you?  Where can you sense His quiet presence in your own sorrow right now?  Write those responses down and keep them somewhere you can see.  Reflect on them as you continue to walk this pathway of grief.  Jesus wept, and He loves you dearly.