Jesus Wept

This morning was rough.  As we sat at breakfast, silent except for tears, all of us were feeling the pain of the recent weeks.  The initial turmoil....the revelation of Satan's work, the unexpected packing, the rushed goodbyes, the 24 hours of travel, jet lag, the chaos upon landing, the joy and heartache of grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins visiting....has all ended.  Now we are in America.  Eric and I are legally separated.  And life just hurts.

This morning was communion at church.  At breakfast, I reminded the kids that as real as it is that we can taste and see the bread and juice, that's how real it is that Christ died for us on the cross.  And because we know that Christ died for us and we can trust him for our salvation, we know that we can also trust our future to Christ.  But this takes eyes of faith to see because we certainly don't "feel" it right now.

As I held the bread in my hand, I began to pray so earnestly that God would meet us in our pain.  Then Benaiah, who also held his bread while bent in prayer, leaned over and asked, "mama, did Jesus cry?"  The only answer I could give was a fervent yes with a hug, as my own tears spilled over.

Jesus wept.  He saw the damage, death, and decay that came with sin and he sobbed for it.  He knows our pain.  He knows betrayal.  He knows who the enemy is.  And he wept.

Christ gave us hope through the cross and the sacrament of communion drives that hope deep into our hearts.  As we sat together for lunch, somehow a wave of joy had peeked through again...a reflection of the grace of God to meet us in our pain this morning and fill our hearts with a peace that truly passes understanding.