Have you ever gone through something so terrible that you could feel it with your whole body? Maybe through sorrow, confusion, numbness or fatigue? Maybe you felt disoriented… or maybe even intense anger? You might know that something happened that made you incredibly sad, but it doesn’t just feel like sadness – it is a whole-body, whole heart experience of having loved, hoped, or expected something… and then losing it. Your whole body experience is your human heart trying to make sense of something in the world that has suddenly changed.

Financial difficulty.

Your family moves.

You experience betrayal.

A relationship ends. 

Feeling estranged from loved ones. 

A life altering diagnosis.

Someone you love dies.

All things that cause intense, sometimes scary emotions. 

Oftentimes, when we face these things, we can feel alone and like no one else in the world could possibly understand. I think sometimes though it’s too easy to forget that we have a Savior who walked this earth and experienced grief himself. He had the power to escape his grief, but he stayed in the discomfort, in the “hard”. He faced loss, temptation, disappointment, betrayal, and ultimately death.

Join us today, as we explore the ways that Jesus himself faced heartbreak, loss, and sorrow. My hope is that we can discover new ways to interpret our own pain. Not as something to avoid and ignore, but as a sacred place where the Healer can meet us. 

Let’s dive in!

Journal your own thoughts: 

Where in my life am I experiencing heartbreak, loss, or sorrow and how might Jesus want to meet me in that place? 

Jesus: The Man of Sorrows

Isaiah 53 is one of my favorite books. I love that it’s written like something that has already happened, when really it was prophesying who was to come. Jesus. 

Isaiah 53 opens in a beautiful way:

“My servant grew up in the Lord’s presence like a tender green shoot, like a root in dry ground.” Isaiah 53:2

This verse tells us how he came… “like a tender green shoot” – not like anyone would expect. He didn’t come in a glamorous way, he didn’t come with any kind of honors or the glory that would be fitting for a king. He was born in a barn to a teenage girl. Laid in a manger, surrounded by all the noises and smells that you would imagine when you picture barn animals. The phrase “tender green shoot” highlights his vulnerability. 

The second part of that verse… “Like a root in dry ground” could speak to how Jesus was actually received. Their Messiah didn’t look how they thought he would, so many of them missed him. When he grew into a man, he was despised, rejected, hated, and misunderstood. He wasn’t anything “special” in the majority of people’s eyes.

And yet, from this quiet, unnoticed beginning, Jesus stepped into three years that would reveal what had been true of Him all along. The tender green shoot grew into a man who carried authority, compassion, and purpose – and he invited a small group of ordinary men to walk with him as he turned the world upside down. 

Grief in the Life of Jesus

“Jesus wept.” – John 11:35

I don’t know about you guys, but when I was younger, this was a verse that we used when we proudly bragged about how many verses we had memorized. It was a joke, of course… because who doesn’t know this one? It’s only two words… 

But looking at this verse now, as an adult who has lived through real loss and real heartbreak… These two words carry a weight I never noticed before. They’ve become one of my favorite moments in scripture. 

Because in these two simple words, we see Jesus’ humanity on full display. 

Jesus had received word that Lazarus was very sick days earlier, but instead of rushing to him, he stayed where he was for two more days. If I’m honest, putting myself in the disciples’ shoes,  I would’ve been extremely confused. Maybe even frustrated. Why wait? Why not go now? Why not help the people that you love? 

I know that the disciples had to have felt that tension too… that tension of following a Savior who didn’t do things like they thought they should be done. 

By the time they finally arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already died… and not just recently. He had already been in the tomb for four days. 

The air was so thick with grief that you can almost feel it as you read the story. 

Mary and Martha were surrounded by people mourning. Surrounded by sounds of weeping, questions, disappointment, and the ache that the sisters felt: “if only you had been here…” John 11:32

And it’s in that scene. That heaviness, that heartbreak… Jesus steps in. He doesn’t rush past it. He doesn’t minimize. He weeps. 

I have to admit, that when I first started focusing my study here – this part confused me. 

Jesus is fully man, so he feels all of the natural and sometimes intense human emotions. 

But he is also fully God, so he knows exactly what’s about to happen. He knows that his friend isn’t going to stay dead. So why does he allow himself to feel the heaviness of the moment? 

And then it jumped out at me off the page… 

Jesus wept because he loved.

He felt Mary and Martha’s sorrow. I’m positive he could feel how disappointed they were that he allowed this to happen. Death has created a gaping hole in their hearts, and he has compassion on them.

Jesus wept because of the disbelief. 

“When Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a deep anger welled up within him, and he was deeply troubled.” John 11:33

Was his anger towards the people and their unbelief? Maybe a little. I could see how he may have thought about the fact that they had walked with him for so long already and they had seen him do things beyond human control. Yet, there they were again… facing a situation that none of them had control over and standing with the one that makes the impossible happen… yet Lazarus was still dead.

But more than that, I think he was angry that brokenness and separation from God’s intended design was on full display. 

Grief caused spiritual blindness.

Pain caused brokenness. 

And in that moment death held power over their minds.

His anger wasn’t small or human sized. His anger was deep, holy grief of a person who sees what sin and death had done to the people and the world that he loved. 

When we look at this story as Jesus is standing outside Lazarus’ tomb, we see a Savior who doesn’t distance Himself from pain. We see a Savior who steps into the moment, who feels the weight of their sorrow, who sits with them in their questions and disappointment. He doesn’t rush to fix it. He doesn’t rebuke their emotions. He weeps with them. He carries their brokenness in His own heart and enters the heaviness right alongside them.

And whatever you’re facing today, I want you to know this: the Savior of the universe isn’t intimidated by your grief. He isn’t put off by your questions or your confusion. He isn’t disappointed in your tears. He meets you right in the middle of your mess… in the places that feel too heavy, too painful, or too complicated, and He sits with you there.

You are not alone in what hurts.

The same Jesus who wept at Lazarus’ tomb holds space for your sorrow too.

Journal your own thoughts…

Where in my life am I feeling the weight of grief, disappointment, or unmet expectations? What would it look like to let Jesus sit with me in that place instead of trying to carry it all on my own? 

Prayer: 

Thank you for being a Savior who sits with us in our grief. You see every place in our hearts that feel heavy, confused, or broken. You know the things that we carry deep in our hearts, that we can’t even put into words. We may not be able to verbalize those things, but you see them anyway. Meet us in those dark places today. Help us feel your peace all around. Help us to find comfort in your presence and let your love be the place where healing begins. Amen