What stirs the deepest response in me is loss. Its effects on people, especially kids. I lost my brother when I was 15 (he was 17), my first baby, and the number of young friends and family whose grave I have stood beside now far outnumber all the available fingers and toes I have to count on. Jesus wept – not a few delicate graceful tears rolling serenely down His peaceful cheeks, but the loud wails and deep sobs of middle eastern mourning. Yet He knew He was only 10 minutes from raising Lazarus from the dead. So why the tears?
I wrote this on my blog recently: “I think He wept for the pain He saw. He broke His heart over the love and brokenness of the friends around Him who wept for Lazarus. He wept for the separation, the anger, the confusion, the terrible ache. He wept because the children He made were hurting and hurting badly with their sense of loss. They called Him “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” And I don’t think He only wept once in His life somehow. I suspect He wept more tears than could fill an ocean, His heart broken by His compassionate care for the ones He loved so much.”
So far for me that has not been something I respond to by forming an organisation, but it’s a one on one care for the people I know and meet. And boy there are a lot of them that cross my path. Wrecked for platitudes, wrecked for not feeling, this one runs deep in my heart probably exactly because it has hurt me so badly and so often. “God comforts us in our troubles so that we can comfort those in trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” (2 Cor 1:4-5)