3:21 AM. This road in front of me is long with so many cracks and canyons, I can't make out if there is an end at all. Everywhere I look are blinking lights. Outside my door are old Christmas lights a neighbor has yet to take down, the alarm clocks, the quiet flicker of electric pictures across my screen. Everything is alive, but seem so empty and sterile. I wish I could breathe something real into them to remind me that nothing lives forever, we are programmed and wired with everything we need to lead us to happiness and to God. Just right now it all looks empty to me, because I lost something that matters so much to me. I would search endlessly if I already didn't know where it went, but I do.
Heaven. So why do I weep?
Even Jesus wept. Lazarus, His friend, was dead and He knew He was about to heal him. Some say, He was weeping for the sin of the world or the ignorance of mankind. I say He wept because He shared in the pain of being human. His name is Emmanuel, meaning God with us. I think when He called Himself that, He meant that He was really with us in everything, including the times when you would do anything to crawl right out of your own skin. The times when the sorrow is so great you can't see anything or breathe right air, or function as a husband, father, or friend. He is with us. He has been with me. Despite this misery I feel. I still feel Christ more. I have to remind myself that when the dark is too thick and the storm is raging, look for Christ inside of it with me, not look for the end of it. That is where faith is cultivated.
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