When God Seems Late
Four days, ninety-Six hours and five-thousand, seven hundred and sixty minutes later Jesus arrived. By anyone’s measure of time Jesus was late. Lazarus was dead. Four days dead. Common Jewish belief of the day was that the soul lingered near the body for three days after death in hopes that it would return to it. Lazarus had been dead longer than this, just a day past the point of hope. Lazarus was irrevocably dead. Measured in moments Lazarus’s death could be accounted in the following: One day for the time it took the messengers from Bethany to arrive where Jesus was, two days for the time that Jesus stayed away, and another day for the time it took Jesus to travel to Bethany. Many Jews had already come from Jerusalem to Mary and Martha in order to comfort them, but Jesus, their friend, the one whom loved Lazarus, was absent. Confusion must have been thick in the grieving sister’s minds. Just three days prior Mary and Martha had sent a messenger to Jesus saying the one he loved was sick. Not just a passing kind of sickness, but the kind that had prompted a frantic appeal of two sisters who knew their brother lay dying. Where was he, why had he not he come? They must have sat waiting, sat praying, sat hoping that at any moment Jesus would return and their brother would be well again. Each day lingered, each morning passed, until finally, not long after the messengers were dispatched, Lazarus breath became a whisper and then was gone. Hope turned to despair, life gave way to death. For four days Lazarus lay wrapped in strips of linen and cloth, his body giving way to the effects of decomposition. Mary and Martha had known that Jesus could have prevented this, Jesus could have saved Lazarus, but he didn’t. Mary and Martha had no way of knowing that even though Jesus loved them and Lazarus, he had chosen to stay where he was for another two days. They had no way of knowing that it was for God’s glory that Jesus did this, for their own sakes that Jesus tarried, that He, God’s son, would be glorified through it. All the grievers could see were the burial clothes, the closed tomb, and the dead man behind the stone. Yet Jesus wasn’t late. He was right on time. Lazarus’s death was less about timing and more about life than anyone could have even known. Not just Lazarus’s life, but there very own.
There are so many times in life that I feel much as Martha and Mary must have felt. Circumstances that I can’t help but feel are hopeless. Moments I think that God’s too late, or that He simply chose not to show up. After all, God is God and He can do anything, right? Through agonized pleas and prayers I question, doubt, and wrestle with the God who can do all things. In my mind I know this to be absolutely true, yet my vision becomes clouded, my ability to discern compromised by feelings of loss and the pressing demands of the circumstance it’s self. I too easily forget that God is more invested at times in the process than the petition. Life is less about me and more about God’s glory. Jesus waited to come to Lazarus’s family because there was more at stake than Lazarus’s physical life. There was a truth to be revealed, a spiritual lesson to be learned. God can do anything. “I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” asks Jesus in John 11:25-26. I ask myself this very same question, do I believe this?
The reality is that life is difficult. Very difficult. We were not promised that we would be spared from pain, grief, loss, persecution or heartache, or exempt from sickness or even disappointment. What we were promised was God himself, an everlasting life in the hands of the Father if we are willing to lay our own lives at the foot of the cross. Our walk with the Lord is not simply a supplication, but rather an absolute surrender of everything we are, everything we hope to be, everything we desire, every fiber of our being that Christ may be supreme and glorified. A lifting down of self so that Christ may be lifted up, into His proper position, High and exalted. Do I want Christ more than anything else? Am I willing to die and lose my life so that I may find it in His merciful embrace? These questions are personal and difficult. Not until the stone was rolled away and Lazarus stood, his hands, feet, and face still wrapped in cloth, did many believe. What amazement must have filled the mourning crowd, what awe must have been present as the people helped Lazarus remove his burial clothing. The stone had been rolled away and Lazarus and been resurrected. The impossible had turned miraculous. Many saw, many believed, many put their faith in Jesus that day. Jesus moved that day in the way God his father directed, not how people demanded. The question, at least for me, is can I recognize God’s hand in my own life, even if it works in the unexpected ways that go contrary to my own and realize that God is in the process of doing the miraculous? God’s alive, He’s working, and He’s not late. No matter what my heart may feel, God is working out His plan, in His way, and in His timing. He does this so others can see Him more clearly, so that He alone may have all the glory. Yes, God’s not late. He’s just not done yet.
1 comments:
Kristy, Your devotional has been MY devotional for the day! Thank you for sharing what God is teaching you through time spent in His Word and through experiencing LIFE! I agree with you...God is never late. His plans are so much greater that we can imagine. It really comes down to the question of, "Am I willing to trust my Lord in this area of my life?" We are so willing to trust Him for something as huge as salvation, but then we find ourselves in circumstances that we didn't expect and find it's difficult to trust Him in those areas. A pastor told me this one time, when I was experiencing a difficult situation, and it really made sense to me. Again, thank you for ministering to me today through your blog! God's many blessings upon you, BB
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