Earp Takes Aim | Faith, Culture, Life

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He Wept, too.

It's been a long, hard day.  The first second after way too many firsts.  

Today was our anniversary.  

I've been spending a lot of time alone with Jesus today.  And I found myself coming back, dozens of times, to his dear friend Lazarus.  Both of the dead man's sisters in the moment they see Jesus complain to Him that He should have done more— but didn't they realize that Jesus was grieving, too?  

Jesus, without a hint of defensiveness, said, "Take me to his tomb."

Why?  Why did Jesus want to go there?  To raise Lazarus from the dead, right?  You've read the story.  You know how this thing is going to end. 

My point is…so did Jesus.  You don't really believe that Jesus hadn't yet decided to raise him, do you?  Of course He had decided.  In fact, He had told His disciples that "this sickness will not end in death." {John 11:4}

But our ever tender Savior, hearing the wailing and sensing the deep, aching loss of the sisters— plus enduring His own grief— cried.  Jesus wept.  

He knows what He's about to do, yet far from some stoic, detached robot— Jesus feels the gravity of this horrific loss.  So He walks in that loss with His friends.  

He doesn't quote Scripture or pass along some cliche.  He doesn't urge the girls to buck it up and move on.  He openly and fully grieves.

That's how I'm responding tonight.  I'm healing.  I know the end of the story, but my heart is still heavy.  I don't know how to explain it— not sure I should even try— but I couldn't make sense of all that I'm feeling until I put some words on the page.  

Not sure this post is for anyone but me.  Then again, that's okay.  Because even Jesus wept, too.

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