"Jesus wept." The shortest verse in the Bible (John 11:35) rains deep puddles of meaning. Just think about it: Jesus-- fully God, fully man -- wept. He cried, sobbed, gushed tears. He wept.
While counseling a hurting Christian woman, have you ever wept? I have. I'll tell you a personal story in a moment. First, I want to welcome you again to Counselors' Coach, the twice-a-month column at Take Root and Write, where you discover how to minister to women who have hurts.
The question for today's column: When is it alright, even best, to weep with a hurting woman? When should we withhold emotion? And is it ever okay to scream or punch a pillow?
Let's look at John 11, the story of the death and resurrection of Lazarus, a close friend of Jesus.
Lazarus' sisters, Martha and Mary, sent the message to Jesus, "Lord, the one you love is sick" (John 11:3), expecting him to drop everything and come at once. They believed he'd heal him.
When one my children becomes ill at school, I go ASAP. School nurse phones and in a
nano
-second I'm in my car and backing out of the driveway.
Not Jesus. He ministers where he is at for two more days. Can you imagine the look of Peter's face or John's or any of the disciples'? My mind's eye pictures raised eyebrows, furrowed brows and glances at one another.
Completely in control he says, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it" (John 11:4). Jesus already knew the end of the story.
When you or I minister to a hurting Christian woman, we don't know what the future holds. Will the woman in a bad marriage ever find the love she hungers for? Will the one in deep debt crawl herself out? And what about the mom whose teen drinks? Or who is failing her classes?
What about the woman grieving the loss of a loved one?
Just like Martha. Just like Mary. As Jesus approaches Bethany, the older sister went out to him. He assures her that her brother will rise again. A bit later the younger sister falls at his feet. She sobs. All the people there to comfort the sisters weep and wails, for Lazarus is as dead as a stone.
"When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled" (John 11:33).
He asked, "Where have you laid him." They replied, "Come and see, Lord (John 11:34)." And then he wept.
Have you wept with someone in deep pain? If so, you were so moved with compassion that you hurt too. You hurt because she hurts.
One time a sweet 20-something woman shared with me the account of her brother's suicide. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Mine too. I joined in her suffering. He had been depressed, but no one expected him to take his life. No one.
Another women in her 30's opened up to me her past of sexual abuse by a family member and let me see her scarred childhood. I had affected her marriage. We cried together.
Still another woman told me, whom I'll call Rhonda, described her feelings of worthlessness. Sadly I hear this very often. I am convinced that the heart cry of many Christian women today is: Tell me I have worth, that I have a purpose, that someone loves me, that I am lovable, that I am beautiful.
She had tried to end her life on several occasions. I told her God says she has immense value because she is made in his image, her eyes watered just a bit. Mine did too. Later I wept. I thought of the passage in John I shared her and prayed that Jesus would raise her from the dead. Not literally, of course. Rhonda is very much alive yet dying inside
I wanted to scream about the unfairness of this thing called life. I desired to punch a pillow. But venting my anger would not help Rhonda. I would not be handling my anger as God instructs. He tells us to speak the truth in love. Screaming is not speaking. Punching? Nuh-uh.
Instead I prayed. I have become her "stretcher bearer," laying her at Jesus' feet, trusting him to heal in His time, believing his decision is best.
You may remember the story in Luke 5. "Some men came carrying a paralytic on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd right in front of Jesus" (Luke 5:18-19).
I expect that like Jesus I will be moved by Christian women's pain and weep again.
Are you willing to enter into the pain of women who hurt? Do you know the cost? Do you also know how to trust her to Jesus? That you do your part of loving on her and God heals as he sees fit?
As "the counselor to Christian women in a world of hurt," I am neither a psychotherapist nor a life coach. I am a biblical counselor. For more information, check outReal Hope Biblical eCounseling.
"Jesus wept." The shortest verse in the Bible (John 11:35) rains deep puddles of meaning. Just think about it: Jesus-- fully God, fully man -- wept. He cried, sobbed, gushed tears. He wept.
The question for today's column: When is it alright, even best, to weep with a hurting woman? When should we withhold emotion? And is it ever okay to scream or punch a pillow?
Let's look at John 11, the story of the death and resurrection of Lazarus, a close friend of Jesus.
Lazarus' sisters, Martha and Mary, sent the message to Jesus, "Lord, the one you love is sick" (John 11:3), expecting him to drop everything and come at once. They believed he'd heal him.
When one my children becomes ill at school, I go ASAP. School nurse phones and in a
nano
Not Jesus. He ministers where he is at for two more days. Can you imagine the look of Peter's face or John's or any of the disciples'? My mind's eye pictures raised eyebrows, furrowed brows and glances at one another.
Completely in control he says, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it" (John 11:4). Jesus already knew the end of the story.
When you or I minister to a hurting Christian woman, we don't know what the future holds. Will the woman in a bad marriage ever find the love she hungers for? Will the one in deep debt crawl herself out? And what about the mom whose teen drinks? Or who is failing her classes?
What about the woman grieving the loss of a loved one?
Just like Martha. Just like Mary. As Jesus approaches Bethany, the older sister went out to him. He assures her that her brother will rise again. A bit later the younger sister falls at his feet. She sobs. All the people there to comfort the sisters weep and wails, for Lazarus is as dead as a stone.
"When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled" (John 11:33).
He asked, "Where have you laid him." They replied, "Come and see, Lord (John 11:34)." And then he wept.
Have you wept with someone in deep pain? If so, you were so moved with compassion that you hurt too. You hurt because she hurts.
One time a sweet 20-something woman shared with me the account of her brother's suicide. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Mine too. I joined in her suffering. He had been depressed, but no one expected him to take his life. No one.
Another women in her 30's opened up to me her past of sexual abuse by a family member and let me see her scarred childhood. I had affected her marriage. We cried together.
She had tried to end her life on several occasions. I told her God says she has immense value because she is made in his image, her eyes watered just a bit. Mine did too. Later I wept. I thought of the passage in John I shared her and prayed that Jesus would raise her from the dead. Not literally, of course. Rhonda is very much alive yet dying inside
I wanted to scream about the unfairness of this thing called life. I desired to punch a pillow. But venting my anger would not help Rhonda. I would not be handling my anger as God instructs. He tells us to speak the truth in love. Screaming is not speaking. Punching? Nuh-uh.
Instead I prayed. I have become her "stretcher bearer," laying her at Jesus' feet, trusting him to heal in His time, believing his decision is best.
You may remember the story in Luke 5. "Some men came carrying a paralytic on a mat and tried to take him into the house to lay him before Jesus. When they could not find a way to do this because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd right in front of Jesus" (Luke 5:18-19).
I expect that like Jesus I will be moved by Christian women's pain and weep again.
Are you willing to enter into the pain of women who hurt? Do you know the cost? Do you also know how to trust her to Jesus? That you do your part of loving on her and God heals as he sees fit?
As "the counselor to Christian women in a world of hurt," I am neither a psychotherapist nor a life coach. I am a biblical counselor. For more information, check outReal Hope Biblical eCounseling.