Lazarus Come Out From Your Perception

“Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha.  

So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”” 

John 11:1, 3 NIV 

(Read the full passage at: https://bible.com/bible/111/jhn.11.1-3.NIV)

‘But Dad, you're not making me happy!’ 

I can’t remember what it was my toddler daughter was being punished for, or what privilege she was not being allowed to access, but I will never forget those words. 

In her simple, childish thought process, she assumed that her father existed to put a smile on her face. She could not compute that her dad could ever do something to make her sad.  

Yet, as parents, we have to do that sometimes. We don’t like doing it, and our intentions are only ever for our children’s good, but we have to do it all the same. 

What we see here is an equally puzzling situation for our small human minds. Lazarus was the one Jesus loved, yet he was sick. It’s almost as if these states could not and should not co-exist: someone Jesus loves cannot be sick, right? They cannot be poor, right? They cannot suffer, right?  

Yet here they are, together. 

Let’s not be like those who cannot read an exciting novel without skipping to the end.

Let’s consider what happened here. 

Someone Jesus loved was sick. There is no contradiction in that. 

It wasn’t the first time. Many great Bible characters, whom we believe were close to God, endured sickness, disability and, yes, death: from Job, through Abraham and the Patriarchs, David and the Prophets... God loved them, yet they were sick. 

And neither would it be the last time. It happened again and again and again, throughout history, to the present day. 

Jesus was never promised to us as a good luck charm. His love was never there to ferry us to heaven on a cotton candy cloud. He did not come for our comfort, but our salvation. 

We don’t always know why these things happen. Job didn’t have his sufferings explained to him. I don’t know why I, as a reasonably fit fifty-one year old, had a stroke.  

But we see in the Word of God three ways in which God uses our pain: 

Firstly, reluctantly. God only uses suffering when there is no other way to achieve His purposes (Lamentations 3:33). 

Secondly, for our eventual good (Romans 8:28), even though it does not seem like it at the time. 

Thirdly, for His glory (John 11:4), even though we can’t see how. 

Each day I wake up, take my medications and deal with post-stroke fatigue and the limitations of my current condition, I cling to these truths. 

I pray you will cling to them with me. 

Because our Heavenly Father still loves us. 

Even though we are sick.