When the Jews, who were with her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary rise quickly and go out, they followed her, supposing that she was going to the tomb to weep there. Now when Mary came to where Jesus was and saw him, he fell at his feet, saying to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. So the Jews said, “See, how he loved him!” But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man also have kept this man from dying?” Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”

John 11:31-39

Mary cried because her brother died. Mary cried because she imagined what could have happened if Jesus arrived in time. Mary cried seeing Jesus cried. And Mary probably cried when the impossible happened, a miracle that was beyond her imagination. Where are you in this crying timeline? Are you crying seeing the reality of death and pain? Are you crying replaying what could’ve happened, what we could’ve done, why God is allowing this? Are you crying because you know God is crying and heartbroken? Are you crying because you’re experiencing unexpected joys that you knew you could not have if you were not in this situation? In a day, my reason for crying shifts. I’m sad. And on top of that, I had felt so guilty for being so sad: bursting into tears over an article, over a soul-wrenching song that has nothing to do with current events, receiving a text where I feel misunderstood, the list goes on. I need not justify why I am sad. I am sad because of the reality, because of our need for God, because I know God doesn’t want this either, because I’m hopeful for what will happen and have experienced the sparks of hope. We are sad. It’s okay.

Prayer: You bottle all my tears. You bottle all my tears. You make me soft through heartbreak. You make me strong with your hope. Help me release any guilt for knowing how things ought to be and what your heart desires, and therefore am really fucking sad right now. Help me to not wallow in sad, but accept and engage it so to move.

Creative: Listen to the rain.

Brave: Forgiveness.

Generous: What’s something you’ve wanted to do to serve, but have made excuses in the past?