This morning, I purposed to read some in my chronological Bible. There are a million things I need to be doing, but I made myself pick it up where I had last left off... at the story of Lazarus.
When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. "Where have you laid him?" he asked. "Come and see, Lord," they replied. Jesus wept.
He saw Mary's grief, and He felt it in himself. He grieved for the loss of his friend and for the pain his other friends were feeling. He knows what it feels like to grieve.
He lived. He loved. He lost. He grieved. He has overcome the world. I needed that reminder this morning.
I like to think of myself as Mary right now. I am still on my knees at His feet. I've moved past the point of thinking I wish she were still alive. I moved past being angry and questioning. I moved on past the crying every day. I am somewhere now on the timeline of grief, still on my knees, head down at His feet, begging each day for the strength to face the 24 hours ahead of me. Begging for mercy on the hearts of those of us left behind struggling to make through without her.
And I know He knows the whole picture. How each thing fits together perfectly and how it all ends. And I know He hurts for us but rejoices with her. And somehow, reading this story of Lazarus, comforts me this morning. Makes me feel like everything really is okay.