Seasons: Winter — Wednesday
John 11:35
Jesus wept. (NIV)
I always enjoy talking to my friend Ben, not only because he’s a great listener, but also because he’s just a great guy. Last summer during High School Beach Week, he and I stood in the ocean for over an hour, taking wave after wave, chatting about all sorts of things: life, ministry, family, and more.
At one point, the conversation turned to our dads. Ben knew that mine had passed away a few years ago, and I spoke about it for several minutes—mostly about how hard his death had been, and how difficult it was to let go. Always empathetic, Ben listened with great compassion.
A while later, when I offhandedly asked a generic question about his family, I learned that Ben’s father had suddenly passed away when he was in high school.
I had no idea. My heart sank for him. I was twenty-six when it happened, and had several months to prepare for my dad’s death—Ben was just a high school kid who didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye.
No wonder he had so much empathy for my situation. He understood.
In John 11, Jesus travels to the tomb of His friend, Lazarus, who has recently died. But when Jesus arrives, He comes upon Lazarus’ family as they are mourning. Even though Jesus has come there to raise Lazarus back to life, something about their grief moves Him to tears. Human tears. Suddenly, their pain becomes His pain.
I’ll be honest, this wasn’t my original plan for today.
You were supposed to be reading a funny devotional about how much I hate winter, with some loose tie-in about how it serves its purpose (or whatever). But this past week, something changed that.
Last week, a shooter walked into a Nashville school and took the lives of six innocent people—three of them children. A school that I’ve visited before, in an area of town I used to frequent. I don’t normally talk about current events, but knowing these six families never got to say goodbye has brought me to tears more times than I can count this week. I’ve wept with them.
But more importantly—Jesus has, too. And He feels their pain far more deeply than I ever could.
I’m not sure if your worst tragedy has been slow or sudden. What I do know is that, however it’s been, Jesus has wept with you. He understands.
And as painful as this world can be, sometimes that’s all we need.
Wednesday’s Reflection
Is there someone you know who has suffered recently? How can you show them compassion this week?
