We don’t know why but he ailed. He suffered. Pained
We called. We watched. We waited. He died. We buried.
But the hardest was moving on. To live like he never lived.
To make matters worse, God showed up, way too late
To be any good, any help, to any of us all; alive and buried.
The first words that cracked through our breaking hearts,
“If only You were here Lord….” Our neighbors agreed
“Could He who worked wonders for strangers not save
His dearest friend from death, his sisters from traumas?”
I relived the pains of Mary and Martha as they watched their brother slipping away. One of the most frustrating experiences for the most of us is to watch a loved one suffer, unable to help or do anything to change their circumstances. It wrenches and can kill something deep within. Can you imagine Mary and Martha watching their loved Lazarus suffering and dying, waiting for their buddy the Almighty Healer, who has healed countless strangers, to show up and save their only brother whom He equally loved. They waited until he died. But He said He was coming?
They wanted God to come through while their brother still had a chance. They waited for God to come through for them in their darkest moments. But no show. They waited while he died. They waited until they were finally forced to give up his corpse to the grave, an acknowledgement that the God who saved many couldn’t be God in their circumstances. Are you watching a loved one suffering, dying and wondering, “Where is God the healer?” Are you bearing up under so much and brooding, “Where is God the helper?”
I have been in a position where I was standing in the gap for the healing of a loved one, waiting for God to show up and deliver as promised. God did show up. He said I was holding too tight, that I should let go and He will step in. Guess what I did? I believed Him. I let go. I stepped away. I let God. And guess what happened? My Lazarus died. No he didn’t wake up after a while. It’s been several years later, he didn’t come back. Instead of healing, God took away my own Lazarus.
Many thoughts went through my mind. I felt like I gave up on my Lazarus. Like I gave up too soon; maybe I should have negotiated, maybe I should have held on a little longer, maybe something would have changed. Maybe I shouldn’t have let go and let God. That was then. Today, I look back and my heart bears this surpassing peace that comes from knowing that holding tight and refusing to let go wouldn’t have saved my Lazarus or me. Refusing to trust God wouldn’t have made the situation any better for any of us. God answered my prayer, except it wasn’t in the way I expected. Because He knows better than me or any of us would ever know.
In our walk with God, we will come to that junction of our lives where we would be pressed to make that choice, again and again; to trust God or not. To follow where our heart leads or heed the dictates of our head. To hold tight and struggle with our dying Lazaruses. To watch him die then walk away and write off God as a disappointment. To let go, let God and accept whatever comes with it especially if the ending doesn’t line up with our expectations. I hope not too often. But life will always force us into those corners, what will you make of it? As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. If we perish, then we perish but we will choose as often as we are wont, to esteem God as true, righteous and faithful, above every other.
To be continued.
Glory!