Still no trips to the dog pound, and Wilson is growing on us- like a rash- but growing nonetheless. Ginny has been enjoying her new ride, and has been employing the heater, even though the warm weather has rendered it completely unnecessary. I guess deprivation has had its effect. I have my first test tomorrow since re-joining the law school ranks. However, my current approach, as with everything else in my life, has been changed. I just can’t bring myself to pretend like a test is a big deal. However, just to allay the fears of my teacher-of-a-mother, I am prepared. Just aware of perspective.
I recently was reminded of a favorite piece of needless information. The shortest verse in the Bible is John 11:35, which reads, “Jesus wept.” Let me set the scene. Jesus has received word that his friend, Lazarus is sick. He assures everyone that death will not come of it and goes on about his business. By the time he arrives, Lazarus is dead. His sisters openly bemoan the fact that Jesus did not make it in time to help. However, Jesus steps in and raises Lazarus from the dead.
Through Eliot, I have increasingly become aware of a powerful temptation. It seems we Christian-types want to jump to the end. That is, when something is difficult, I often will throw around verses detailing how “all things work together for good” and how the Lord is sovereign- all of this in some attempt to make things, somehow better or at least bearable.
Now, this is often because I, like others, do not typically know what to say to people who are dealing with things that rip their heart out. Gut-wrenching things. Difficult situations that I cannot explain. Times that I know make them question why God, if He is all-powerful, is allowing these things to happen.
I feel somehow afraid to acknowledge that- well, for lack of better words- that it sucks. That what they’re going through is really hard and I cannot imagine their pain. For some reason, that acknowledgement seems almost like giving up on God. Kind of like I am letting down the entire faith if I don’t point out that through God it will all be fine.
Despite my own fears, I have found my favorite reactions to all that has gone on, from my best friends. Upon finding out that our firstborn son was sick with a disease, for which there was no cure- one by one, they came up to me or called me and basically said…I am so sorry. I do not know what to say. This is hard and I hate it.
To our friends who so reacted, I say thank you. I know many of them must have felt the same pressures I do when faced with a difficult situation in the life of another. But they saw the fallacy of that temptation; they journeyed to the depths with us instead of telling us that life would return to the high ground.
You see, Jesus wept. If anyone was in the position to know that everything was going to be all right, it was him. He was going to save the day. Resurrect the dead. It was all going to be better. But Jesus wept. I think He wept for his friends who had been through the death of their brother. He wept over death, over heartache.
Awareness that all will eventually be set right does not require acting that such is now.