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“Your God CRIED?” I used to say it with a little laugh. “If Jesus was God, why did He weep like a weak man?” I mocked the shortest verse in the Bible. Years later it brought me to my knees. “Jesus wept.” John 11:35. Two words. It should bring you to your knees. Then I actually read WHERE He’s standing. At the tomb of His friend Lazarus. And here’s the part that undoes me: He’s about to raise him. In sixty seconds He’ll shout that dead man back to life. The victory is already loaded. And He weeps ANYWAY. He didn’t have to. The happy ending was already in His hand. But He looked at the grief around Him, the sisters, the mourners, the sheer wreckage that death makes of everything, and He entered it. He let it hit Him. God, with tears running down His face, at the graveside of someone He loved. The God of Islam was too majestic to weep. I was proud of that. Until I met a God who was strong enough to. “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses.” Hebrews 4:15. Whatever you’re burying right now. He’s not watching from a safe distance. He’s the God who weeps at gravesides. And then empties them. For all eternity. Praise the King Jesus.