Come forth

John 11:1-45

Lazarus is a story that has always fascinated me. It is a story of love, it is a story of question, it is a story of loss, and it is the story of why. Why did Jesus not come sooner? Why did Jesus wait? Jesus cries so why did he wait?

Here we sit in the midst of so much loss. Loss of friends, loss of work, loss of interaction, loss of touch, and there are still more losses to come. It will be a time of grieving at some point. Why, why have we not been spared this time? Where is Jesus? Why isn't Jesus here? Yet Jesus is. Just as in this story, Jesus is with us when we need. When we need to pour out our hearts. When we need to say you've abandoned us. When we walk through the hardest parts of this in the coming weeks.

This is not to give us a bread of anxiety to eat, but to say this is going to be one of the hardest things we have ever lived through. Once we emerge from this we will have been touched and changed. I know for me there have been times when I have been anxious, when it seems as if worry is the only thing which will consume me. Then I sit under the canopy of the stars at night and receive the healing assurance that I am not in this alone.

The other thing I have realized is in order to get through these dark days I have to embrace the fear. It is something I did when I escaped from my abusive first marriage. Mary and Martha are not spared the greatest fear, losing their brother. This is why they ask Jesus the questions they do. I could not get through escaping without embracing my fear of dying. The days were dark, I had been attacked once, there was no way I was not going to pay for leaving, and may even pay with my life and my two small boys.

Yet through all this Jesus was there. The nights I cried myself to sleep. The nights I stayed up worried I would not see the dawn and afraid of every noise. The days we left the house and returned to curtains drawn and no playing outside after the attack. It is not different now. Through every fear, through every anxious thought Jesus still remains there, I just find again the places of comfort and strength I used before. Praying to the night sky and resting in the stars. Embracing the fear and realizing which may be true and there is no way I can control the outcome. Because the reality is Jesus weeps with us. Jesus feels with us.

This is incarnational. I can't promise outcomes such as our loved ones being raised from the dead. I can't promise there won't be hardships to overcome. The thing is Jesus is there at our tombs, at the places where it is darkest, at the places we hide in, come forth, come out, come and stand with Jesus. Let Jesus' people help us unbind ourselves from fear, from anxiety, from just seeing the bleakest things. The beauty I have found is that even at the doors of death, I am not alone. I never have been. This is the faith we have shared all our lives. Not a faith which saves us from the pain of life, a faith which keeps us through every trouble.

We are never promised to be spared trouble, worry, or death. We are promised we never are alone. As Paul so well puts nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:39). So what do we do? Read the Psalms, find the places of comfort and solace as you wait, enjoy your loved ones gathered around you, nurse the sick, and embrace your fears. They so want to be hugged because they are a part of you, yourself. When we eventually come forth, we will be held in the arms of others and know once again the touch of God. Keep praying, keep living, keep the faith.


Comments