"...so"

"Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one You love is sick.”
When He heard this, Jesus said, 'This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.' Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days, and then He said to His disciples, 'Let us go back to Judea.'" (Matthew 11: 1-7)


When Jesus heard that Lazarus was dying, according to our logic He should have immediately gone to heal him. After all, Jesus loved Lazarus, Mary, & Martha. If you love somebody, you want what's best for them.

And of course, obviously what was best for Lazarus was to be healed...right? Or at least, that's what we in our limited human understanding think has to be true.

I don't know about you, but I have to admit that most of the time when I pray, I have the answer in mind. You see, I tend to think that my idea of how life is supposed to play out is pretty darn good. Honestly, a lot of my prayers probably have a bit of "If you could just do what I'm wanting we'll be good, thank-you-very-much."

Besides, like Lazarus, I'm one Jesus loves. Given that, He should hurry to pull me out of whatever mess I'm in.

Or, maybe not.

Read this passage again, especially the last two sentences: "Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. So when He heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed where He was two more days, and then He said to His disciples, 'Let us go back to Judea.'" There in the middle is something I hadn't noticed before, a tiny little word: So.

I don't remember what blog I was reading that pointed that word out to me, but the message stuck with me. Jesus loves me and wants what's best for me in all circumstances. The problem is, in my short-sightedness I can't see what He sees. He sees the darkness I'm in, how I'm wandering around groping to find my way out, how I'm letting myself sink down in despair.

But He also sees something else. He sees what will happen when I'm on the other side of the darkness, when I step out of the shadows into His Light. He sees how, whatever the circumstances, this will work for God's glory...sometimes despite me, if I'm honest.

Sometimes we are in the middle of the dark, feeling like life is closing in on us and that surely the pressure is too much. We cry out for Jesus to just come to us--
because we know that
in Him is rest
in Him is peace
In Him is healing.

Jesus hears. He loves...and so, sometimes, He waits.

Because sometimes the darkness is needed
                            in order to truly appreciate the beauty of the light.
Because sometimes the pressure is needed
                            in order to create diamonds.
Because sometimes the pain is needed
                            in order to produce strength.

So hold on. If you're crying out for Jesus to just come, because you know He can speak and calm the storms--or whisper and calm your heart--know that sometimes, He waits.

Because even in the hard times, He can be glorified. If we just wait.