I have never seen a grown man weep.
Yes, I have seen red eyes and threatening tears, but not weeping.
Not emotional, ugly, sobbing.
I have never seen a king sob.
I have never seen a god cry.
I have never seen a man weep.
Yet Jesus did that day, around everyone mourning Lazarus.
Around all those accusations, all that hopelessness, all the pain.
Jesus did not cry because his friend was dead.
He cried because no one understood.
As they accused him of not coming faster, of not caring,
He stood there taking the blame.
He stood there as stones flew at his face.
If only they knew.
If only they knew what he knew, if only they trusted him, if only…
If only we trusted him.