Meredith and I have discovered something new about our daughter: she is terrified of thunderstorms. The other night we had a series of storms roll through Bowling Green and Phoebe was not happy. She kept getting up and crying, screaming, and asking for mommy and dada. We tried everything: we consoled her, we showed her the storms through the window and described them as "pretty", we showed her a video of thunder and lightning in hopes she could understand it wouldn't hurt her, but it was no use. At the end, I had to simply give her a "stern talking to" and insist that she go to bed. She eventually went to bed, but not without a lot of tears and whimpering. Afterwards, I felt like the worst father in the world. My daughter just wanted to be held, to be loved, and to be consoled. After finally getting her to bed, I sat forward in my recliner, face-in-hands, and just kind of sobbed. Part of it was exhaustion, but part of it was the fact that I couldn't do what she really needed. Sure, I could hug her and give her temporary comfort, but I couldn't calm her soul and I couldn't take away the storm.
I often wonder how God looks at us here on earth. Does he see us as wayward sons and daughters endlessly trying to find our way back to the creator? Does he see us as stepping stones on a pathway to reclaiming his perfect Eden? Does he see us as stubborn and clumsy beings who have every opportunity to do what is right and yet so often choosing what is wrong? I don't know that any of us can fully comprehend the complete nature of how God perceives us, but we can know with certainty that God laments and weeps for us in our own lives' storms.
In John 11, we see a famous story of Christ who is confronted with the death of his friend, Lazarus. It is a story we have heard many times, but the part I find so fascinating is how Jesus emoted to the news of Lazarus' death.
When Jesus saw her crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, he was deeply moved in his spirit and troubled. “Where have you put him?” he asked. “Lord,” they told him, “come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Couldn’t he who opened the blind man’s eyes also have kept this man from dying?” (John 11:33-37)
Jesus knew that he could raise Lazarus from the dead and he had no fear of death itself. There was no permanence to his friend's condition, so why did he get so emotional? What we see in John is that Jesus saw the grief of those around him and was moved. From this, the general consensus among scholars is that Jesus weeps, in verse 35, for the human condition and the inevitability pain of human death. He sees that there is a storm that we must endure, and he is moved to tears.
Jesus weeps for us in our darkest days. He sees our pain and he laments with us. Sometimes, simply having someone to be upset with us can make all the difference in getting through a tough time. At times, Jesus will offer us that shoulder to cry on, but he can also do more. What we see in John 11:43 is that Jesus didn't just weep for the pain of death: he demonstrated that he can conquer it. Jesus is the all-options God. He can weep, he can comfort, and he can save. He can do it all.
As Scott Krippayne wrote in a famous Christian song, "sometimes he calms the storm, and other times he calms his child". It would be nice if we didn't have to deal with any of the pains and sorrows this life often brings. No more pain, no more sin, no more death, and no more fear. Sounds like heaven doesn't it? Well, that's because it is. Enduring the penalties for sin in our lives and our world is a necessary part of the journey, but through that journey we are reminded of the greater, grander, more divine, glorious, and beautiful place that God has instore.
One day we will see that God was bigger than it all. While here on earth, God may give us small glimpses of it, but we must never lose sight of the fact that whatever storm we are experiencing here on earth is only temporary. One day the clouds will roll back, the rain will dry up, and the only thing left shining will be the glorious Son.
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