Mostly because it's known as the shortest verse in the bible. To be honest, I've never thought too far beyond that. I've never really dwelled in the context of that verse. But it's right in the middle of the story of Lazerus. One of Jesus' good friends had died. And even knowing that He would soon raise His friend from the dead, Jesus sat with Martha and Mary and the others who had gathered to mourn Lazerus' death, and He cried with them.
Brandon briefly mentioned this yesterday in his sermon and it hit me like it never has before.
Jesus wept too.
To weep means to express grief, sorrow, or any overpowering emotion.
Its amazing to me that Jesus, knowing the full story, the beginning, the present and what was still to come (Lazerus being resurrected) He still allowed himself and those around Him, to feel and to express the emotion of loss.
Have you ever experienced loss like this before? A loss that doesn't make sense at all. One that you know, in the end, will be evidence of God's glory, but right now, it doesn't seem right or true and the overpowering emotions of sadness break through. Despite your every attempt to be strong, and to stay strong. The emotions take over.
Can I tell you something? It's ok.
It's totally ok to cry. To mourn. To question. To get angry.
Life doesn't make sense all of the time. Or even most of the time, really. Mostly because we are human. We don't see beyond the present circumstances of this world, but let me please reassure you that there is so much more to this life.
So much more.
And even in the darkest of times, where you may feel like you have to keep it together, or you shouldn't question things...it's ok to weep.
Let those emotions be fully felt. Cry. Get angry. Ask God the hard questions. He wants you to! It's in those times of leaning in to the hurt and the pain and the anger, that I believe we truly change. If we can lean in to them and let them be felt there is so many things to learn. So many ways to grow.
There have been times when I didn't want to cry. When I felt like crying meant I was giving up. Laying down my armor. Letting walls come down. And I didn't want that. I wanted people to see me being strong. I wanted to keep fighting and keep moving. Weeping always felt close. Surrender always called my name. But I pushed it away. Kept going, kept pushing, kept fighting.
And then I broke. Physically, mentally and spiritually.
And I wept.
Uncontrollable, gasping for air, tears falling. Wept.
I sat in a rocking chair, rocking Bella who was around 14 months old, holding tight to her, while letting go of the baby who had been fighting so hard with me inside. That little 20 week baby girl inside me. I couldn't go on anymore. I couldn't fight. I let her go. I freed her from the fight and I wept.
That same night, I held her in my arms. Our Faith Marie. I kissed her lifeless lips knowing full well her spirit was already in the arms of Jesus in heaven. It didn't make sense. It hurt. The loss of our baby girl felt so heavy. And yet there was peace. Unexplainable peace. It wasn't my fight anymore. Laying down my armor didn't mean giving up. It simply meant surrendor.
I truly believe that we have to allow ourselves to fully feel one emotion in order to fully know another. Because I have felt great heartache, I know great joy.
It may be today, it may be weeks from today, but if you've stumbled here and you're fighting...If you're tired and weary from the fight...From trying to be strong...
Please know, it's ok to weep.
Jesus will meet you there. He knows whats coming. He knows the great joys ahead. He knows the good, good plans He has for you. But He'll be there for you in the brokenness too. It's ok to cry. Joy is coming. Light has come. Eternal life is ours. Lean in to that surrender and let it transform you.
"You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing.
You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy,
that I might sing praises to you and not be silent."