Jesus wept, so why can’t we?

“Jesus wept.”

The shortest passage in the bible, John 11:35.

Jesus wept because he heard of the death of Lazarus, a man he knew and loved, a friend who was like family.

Jesus wept out of love and grief, not out of doubt.

Jesus wept because it is the human response to loss and sadness.

Jesus wept because it is what anyone with a heart does when that heart is damaged or broken by news that is not welcome.

Jesus wept but the world didn’t stop. No one judged him. No one left him.

Jesus wept and no one questioned if he was fit to lead or fit to serve.

Jesus wept in front of his followers, in a public place for all to see, and no one turned away, no one tried to hide him, no one tried to quiet him.

Jesus wept without shame or embarrassment because weeping is as much a part of human life as laughter.

Jesus wept because tears are prayers of thanksgiving in the depths of sorrow. Each tear is praise for a life lived that now is gone, gratitude for a gift given that is no more but we loved while we had it; a gift so great that the absence of it pains us to our very core.

Jesus wept because we celebrate life not only with smiles and joy but also with heartbreak and sorrow.

Jesus wept because he loved and to love is to risk it all for the sake of the other. To love is to know your heart will swell and break because that’s how God created each and every one of us.

Jesus wept because the pain of love is as rewarding and important as the elation of ecstasy.

Jesus wept for himself and his friends but not out of selfishness or doubt. We can mourn loss in the same moment we have deep and abiding faith that death doesn’t have the last word.

Jesus wept because faith isn’t about 24/7 smiles and praise but about steadfastness in the face of loss and pain.

Jesus wept because he could, in a full embrace of his humanity and capacity for life, love, suffering, loss, joy, elation, friendship.

Jesus wept because he should, because that’s what we do when someone we love leaves us, sometimes even when we know it’s temporary.

Jesus wept, showing us yet another stone in the path that paves the way of life, the way of the cross, the way of faith, the way that is discipleship and dedication to following him.

Jesus wept, so why can’t we? Why don’t we? Are we less human? Do we feel love and loss any less? Do we think ourselves better or stronger than the almighty? Are we so ashamed and embarrassed by our tears whereas God himself cried openly and with abandon?

Jesus wept. And so do we, can we, should we.

The Losses of Gain

This morning my son said “Mommy, I miss Toccoa.” We moved from that city to our new home this summer and occasionally our kids will wax nostalgic about our old home. My immediate reaction has been to worry that they aren’t adjusting to their new surroundings and that I’m not doing a good job helping them settle in and make new friends.

But that’s not what my son meant. He wasn’t making a negative comment about our current home. He’s adjusting just fine, as are our girls. All three have made friends, love their new school and being in Rabun County. He simply was mourning the losses that have come from the change.

Somewhere along the line we are taught that we should only be happy when positive things happen to us. When we have a new baby we are to be elated all the time. When a new and better job comes our way, it’s all balloons and “congratulations!” Weddings are all about celebrating and sending the couple off into their “happily ever after.”

But that’s not real, is it? Even though these are exciting and positive events, they are still changes and with every change comes some kind of loss. The new parents have the joy of a new baby but that baby means the end of their days of spontaneity and a lot of their free time. They can’t decide to walk out the door at a moment’s notice to go to a movie or on a couples’ weekend. Similarly, a new job with better pay also means leaving coworkers and friends, a support network, at the previous job. And all of us who are married know the myth that “happily ever after” means all sunshine and roses. We commit ourselves to one another out of a deep and abiding love, but that commitment includes forever taking someone else’s needs and desires into account. In getting married, we give up the rights to our self-centered impulses that once ruled our lives as single people.

My son was pointing out the obvious: when we gained our new life here, there are opportunities and relationships in our old lives that have been missed, lost, or forever changed. He wasn’t making a condemnation of the new, just recognizing that he misses some of the old.

Too often we don’t allow ourselves time and space to mourn the losses that come with the gain. Somehow we’ve decided that all loss is bad and mourning is a sign of failure. We willfully deny that loss is fundamentally a part of any change, no matter how positive that change may be. We don’t want to admit any sadness in the face of improvement and progress. Celebration is only about joy and happiness.

But that’s not the way of the world. Quite often we are unable to fully engage the elation of positive change because we’re denying all that we’ve lost, even for good reason. There’s no shame in mourning losses, regardless of the nature of the change. I miss things about my former job and our former town. That’s not to say I’m unhappy with where I am now. I love my new church and our new community. But moving here was a change and with that change came the loss of the life we knew.

My son had a simple word for me: that he missed his old life. My Mom Anxiety wanted to jump to the rescue. I wanted to espouse the fabulousness of his new house, new school, new town. I wanted to cover up the sadness and loss because I have bought into the dysfunction that sadness can only mean there's something wrong and that I have to be the one to fix it.

No. He just wanted to tell me that he wished he had gotten to have a play date with one of his friends from preschool before we moved (That brought on the other familiar emotion, Mom Guilt). He was not saying that the many play dates and sleepovers he's had here were not enough or inadequate. He was not saying that he wanted to move back and hated where he is now. He simply was missing one thing, one "could have been" from our old life. That's all.

And that's o.k., healthy even.