My Tears and Dead Brother Laz

It does not take a lot to make me cry. 

I think this stems from the fact that I always wear my heart on my sleeve and that I am a forever theater kid (hello, dramatics), but it also comes from having a mother who cries easily. I remember, growing up, rolling my eyes at the fact that any movie would cause tears to well up in my mother's eyes, or that a snappy response could easily inflict hurt and waterworks... and somewhere in the last five years, I have taken up that idiosyncrasy of hers.

While I like to say I have thick skin and that I am tough, I tend to use tears and moments of crying to release and work through a situation that I am going through. At the same time, however, tears have become a way for me to express love and admiration.

I often find myself weeping in the presence of the Lord-  tears of joy, praise, longing, and faith. Spending time with Him is so sweet and precious to me, and sometimes, I do not know how to express those feelings other than being evoked to tears. There are other times, however, when I pray to God, my tears do not stem from joy but rather from hurt, misunderstanding, pain, and even anger.

Raw, honest moment: for the last year, my heart has been broken over the lack of a child. I have been praying for children since childhood, and I thought I would have had one by now. With the setbacks of my reproductive system and the cysts that occupied my ovaries, for a while, I feared that I would never be able to carry my own child. 

I know that I praise and worship a God that can do the impossible and improbable. And he did already; he woke up my uterus and brought it back to life. But when it comes to waiting for a baby... I don't know, and honestly, I am ashamed to admit it, but I have been quite angry with the waiting and the fact that he has yet to provide this precious child that I have prayed for for years. Instead, I feel as though I am being handed trial after trial, seasons of pruning and growing, and never-ending refining.

I'm like, okay, God!! I see You- You are teaching me patience, and to have faith, and all of the things... but can we just talk this out? Father-to-daughter? Honestly, I am really tired, and I don't know how much of this I can take. This was a real conversation, by the way.

I have spent countless hours crying over my body and my inability to conceive a child. My husband has had to pick me up off the floor after collapsing in pain over the countless negative tests. The number of times he has whispered to me, "You're next," after tearing up in joy-jealousy-shame after seeing pregnancy announcement post after pregnancy announcement post is embarrassingly high. 

A couple of weeks ago, I broke down and begged, God, why couldn't you have done this for me already? Have I cried enough tears? I have faith in you, but I don't understand why you are letting me experience this pain. I know you could have done it already, so why haven't you?

I was then drawn to the death of Lazarus, specifically Jesus' time with Mary of Bethany. 

Jesus had received news that his beloved friend, Lazarus, was ill and dying, but he did not make His way down to Bethany until after Lazarus had passed. Jesus spoke with both of Lazarus' sisters separately, but it was his conversation with Mary that stuck out to me. 

Weeping, she fell to his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died" (John 11:32). Jesus felt angry in his spirit and felt troubled. But what did Jesus do? Did he tell her that death is a part of life? Or assure her that she would be okay? Tell her not to cry? No! "Jesus wept" (11:35). 

Jesus, Savior and Lord, the one who can do all, sat beside Mary and wept with her. 

What is so significant about this story to me is not about the ending, you know, the part where Jesus ends up raising Lazarus from the dead (spoiler!!!). But, it is about the fact that Jesus knew he would do the impossible and perform a miracle, yet he still sat with Mary and wept with her. 

Just like with Mary, I am comforted in knowing that each time I cry, the Lord is sitting beside me, not only catching my tears but weeping with me. I am comforted in knowing that he weeps with me, but he knows the ending, he knows the miracles he is going to perform in my life, and he knows the children we will have by name. It takes a lot to calm me down and reassure me about something, but knowing this brings me so much comfort and peace. 

So, if you are someone who finds yourself in a season of hurt, pain, anger, or longing. Take comfort in knowing that our Savior is sitting beside you, weeping with you, and he knows what is still to come.