Maybe I am beginning to grasp the grief Jesus felt. Maybe.
The charter plane landed. Me and 25 others, flags unfurled, formed a semi-circle of commendation to an already-aching family. The door opened. A lieutenant and a Sargent came down a short ladder. Immediately, a color guard made another pine box stable.
Cringing, the family crossed the runway. Assistance was given the thin, fragile grandmotherly woman. Some made strides to the casket. Others, distressed, had no longing to draw near, having been schooled in grief.
I am acquainted with a family member. She is inconsiderate, oblivious, and a throw-everything-to-the-wind soul. The family towed her to the pine box. Grief took charge. The wails were prolonged, perpetual, and, piercing.
The chaplain prayed. More tears and additional mourning flowed. A family member prayed. “Lord,” he said, “You tell us this is to be a happy day. All I am praying for is the strength to endure this adversity.”
The family turns to leave. The one I know is drug away. She struggled with them, loudly wailing. Family members restrained her.
I remembered Paul's words to the Thessalonians. “But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorry as others who have no hope.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). He was preparing believers for the inevitable pain.
Jesus knew the pain. He cared. “Now as he drew near, He saw the city and wept over it...” (Luke 19:41). John records Jesus' emotions when He visited Mary and Martha, Lazarus' family. “Therefore, when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled.” (John13:33). Later John added, “Jesus wept.” (John 13:35).
Today, I think I suffered a sadness like Jesus did.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Have you had a similar experience? Would you share it in the comment section?