Tears Mingled

Thirteen years ago today my brother died.

I miss him.

I was at Ecola Bible School and he was on a mission trip in Bolivia. My mom and dad got the word in the middle of the night and showed up at my dorm very early the next morning. As soon as I opened the dorm door and saw them standing there with our pastor I knew something terrible had happened. It was surreal and horrible and scary. After they told me I put my head down and sobbed for a long time.

My memory of that morning is pretty patchy. The one thing I remember with perfect clarity is a gift that I have clung to for the last thirteen years. I was given a crystal clear picture of God's tender compassion and Father heart. I had a vision of myself on my face weeping in front of Jesus throne and my tears were falling on his bare feet. As I lay crying and watching my tears splash onto His feet I suddenly realized it was not only my tears I was seeing. He was weeping with me. We wept together and our tears mingled on his scarred feet. And in one of my deepest moments of pain I knew Love deeper than ever before. 

Life is exhausting and overwhelming. It hurts and sometimes feels completely unbearable. The bombing at the Boston Marathon is a recent example. There is pain and sadness at every turn. We live in such a broken world and it's full of broken people with the free will to make bad decisions. Jesus told us to expect this kind of pain and struggle, but thank you God, this broken world is not my home. My hope is not here.

I'm so grateful for a Love that intimately knows our deep pain and is waiting to weep with us. And to carry us through when necessary. There is a Love that offers hope beyond this broken world. That's where I choose to focus my sad, tired heart. There are days where I can only gasp with arms outstretched through the pain that crushes me. And Love lifts me and weeps with me and then points me to my true home.

My Jesus and my brother wait for me there.