"When we arrive at eternity's shore, where death is just a memory and tears are no more. We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring; Your bride will come together and we'll sing You're beautiful." -Phil Wickham
Grief makes you do funny things like cry, scream, sit in silence, eat too much chocolate, not eat at all, or . . . blog? Yesterday at 2am my premature nephew Ryder Lauren Picton passed away. He was 1lb 5 oz and he was beautiful. Needless-to-say, the last 24 hours have been brutal for my bruised and broken family. Although I've walked through difficult circumstances in my life many times over, this one takes the cake, the ice cream, and the high-fructose-corn-syrup-soda with it.
I think all blog's should be started in a moment of internal chaos and emotional disarray.
The out pour of sympathy, encouragement, and scriptural truths have gotten me thinking about the things we tell ourselves in the midst of suffering.
For instance, we cry out, "where, O death, is your sting?" Well, if you'd really like to know, I can tell you exactly where the sting of death resides. The aching, sharp sting lies in my sister's heart and mind as she comes to grips with the fact her first born son will never be in her arms. The sting lies in the ache of my mother's and father's eyes as they desperately try to comfort their youngest daughter and manage their own grief over the death of their first grandbaby. The sting echoes through the silence of our house along with the crying we can hear from my sister's bedroom. The sting leaves me breathless as tears and emotions I did not know I was capable of well over and spill onto my lap as I hold my nephew for the very first time and the last time in the same moment. This is the sting of death.
I can already hear the grumblings over my negativity and I know half of you are about to offer to spoon feed me Biblical truth. . . but really, death stings. Jesus never denied it. In fact, the Bible clearly illustrates that Jesus too felt the sting of death as an onlooker. . .
Biblical recap. The Death of Lazarus.
Although there are layers upon layers I could touch on in this single story, there's one point I want to focus on. My God- the Creator of the Universe, our healer, our Savior, the King of Kings, and Prince of Peace- wept. Jesus, fully God and fully man, wept (John 11:35).
Jesus wept.
And as Jesus wept, the Jews who had come to mourn for Lazarus declared, "see how he (Jesus) loved him (Lazarus)."
Because Jesus loved Lazarus, our Savior wept.
I think its interesting to note that Jesus, being one with God and the Holy Spirit, already knew the final outcome of these events. Christ knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead. Furthermore, He already knew that in just a short time to follow these events He would be betrayed, beaten, nailed to a cross for dead, and on the third day resurrected. Christ knew that the enemy was going to be defeated. As He wept for Lazarus, He already knew that death would not hold Him down and that through His atoning sacrifice those who put their faith in Him would never be bound by death. Yes, Christ knew that He would forever do away with death's sting as He walked with Mary to the tomb of Lazarus.
Yet, it did not stop Him from weeping in front of the crowd that had gathered.
As I prepared a Bible study on this chapter in John a few years ago, I remember getting hung up on these two words- the shortest verse in the NIV translation. I just couldn't get over the fact that my God, the all-knowing and all-powerful, cried. Snotty nose, puffy and blood shot-eyes, moans and sob, Jesus probably looked as rough as I have looked over the last 24 hours. I kept saying out loud over and over again, "Can you believe it? Jesus wept!"
As I've walked through the sting of death and the never ending flood of salt water over the last 24 hours, I've thought through this scripture once again and pondered a point my pastor made not too long ago: We were never meant to experience death. Suffering was not in God's original plan but was a result of the fall of man.
Jesus wept because He loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and Jesus knew that the suffering we must endure on earth is not part of His Father's creation. As Christ witnessed the agony caused by death, I believe He was moved and His heart cried out, "This is not the way I meant for this to be!"
Fortunately, thanks to the resurrection of Jesus, this is not the way it will be forever. In the meantime, this middle of eternity's road where death still stings, I'm comforted knowing that God weeps over our suffering. I'm comforted knowing that He wants nothing more than to heal our broken hearts as we witness death and the pain of distorted creation. I'm comforted knowing that Jesus loves me, my sister Lesley, my family, and baby Ryder (John 11:5) enough to cry with us.
I have no doubt that, as Ryder passed into God's gentle hands and my sister screamed and cried on the living room floor, Jesus was weeping.
Praise God that death has lost the sting that resounds for eternity. Praise the Lord that death is not where the story ends.
Just as Lazarus was raised from the dead, I have no doubt that God will be glorified through the death of baby Ryder (I have to admit, as I held him for the first time, I prayed pretty intensely for a resurrection. In fact, I don't think I've every prayed so hard for something in my life.). I have no doubt (and pray with all my heart) that, like the onlookers who watched Lazarus return to life did so (John 11:45), those who have walked through this loss with our family will put their faith in Jesus Christ and for them death will forever lose its sting. And my tears of sorrow turn to tears of rejoicing because death, thanks be to God, is never in vain but always used for our redemption and His unfathomable glory.
Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 5:3 And as my hope is in Him, I'm even more motivated to use my suffering to preach His healing grace. Take that death; take that.
