Friday, June 3, 2011

Tears.


I have almost been home a week. It has been lovely, reuniting with old friends, being a part of my family's life again, meeting new friends. It really is a new adventure, another chapter....

Of course I find my self thinking of Honduras most often, and so it should be. But it's hard, because often it's a deep sadness that is hard to describe. I think of the lives still in danger, still in need of a Savior, and the deep need that is ever present there.
I think of young Elvin, still living on the streets, addicted to yellow glue, and in desperate need of Christ's love in his life. I think of Carlos David at Casita Kennedy, and the three brothers Jangel, Josue Givran and Cristofer. I think of and pray for them, and I cry. When will their rescue come? And I know that me being there or not won't make a huge difference, God will work through whoever is willing. And I know there are amazing people there, who are willing to be and are being used in amazing ways. But I'm not there, right there, to witness it. I want to be used to help these children, these people! And the sadness of not being there, not being there for the little things. Not being there for their exams, their soccer games, their plays at church...not being there for my little host brothers' birthdays, or for the anniversaries of the Micah guys, is what gets me the most...

I remember what Bonnie Westberry told us during our debrief in New York, which seems so long ago now, on a particularly hard day. She said that "you need to know that you are grieving. You have experienced a loss, a different type of loss, but it is one all the same. And every loss must be grieved." We all left little bits of ourselves there, to be remembered. And it hurts.
But I was comforted today, as I read John 11, in the story of Lazarus. Verses 32-36:

When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."
When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. "Where have you laid him?" he asked.
"Come and see, Lord," they replied.
Jesus wept.
Then the Jews said, "See how he loved him!"

Most people know at least verse 35, "Jesus wept." But I think most people don't know WHY Jesus was weeping; most are unaware of the context. The beauty of this chapter is Jesus' humanity. There isn't a living person who cannot identify with this--with grieving. Jesus wept for Lazarus' sisters, for their pain, and that of the friends of Lazarus, but he also wept for himself. Earlier in the chapter, in verse 5, it says "Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus." It was that feeling of loss, that grieving, of a loved one.
Reading this drew me closer to the person of Jesus, and I realized that he is weeping with me as I weep for Honduras, as I weep for the children of Casita Kennedy and for Elvin, for my host family and for the Micah boys. He cries with me, he weeps for my pain, and also his own at seeing his loved ones lost, struggling, in need, or all three.
The empathy of Christ is something to be learned from, and something to be comforted by.

So now, as I cry and miss Honduras, in these days when my beautiful team is too far to cry with me, I know that Jesus is with me, weeping.