Part 3: The Eternal Embrace
In Part One of this series, you were invited to explore my personal grief. In Part Two, we reflected on the world’s grief—how it clings to false feelings of forever. Now, we turn to God’s grief. Why is Jesus called the God who weeps? And how can the One who weeps also be the One who welcomes us into an eternal embrace?
It’s fascinating how the Bible places us at the center of so many historical events—none more important than the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Perhaps His most famous miracle is found in John 11:38–44, where Jesus raises His dear friend Lazarus from the dead.
When Jesus arrived, He found people mourning. Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. After speaking with Mary, Lazarus’s sister, Jesus proceeded to raise him from the dead. What a stunning event to witness! That’s usually the moment we focus on—but if we shift our attention slightly, we might find something even more astonishing.
That astonishing moment is found in the shortest verse in the Bible. Before performing the miracle, we read in John 11:35, “Jesus wept.” How often we overlook what Jesus was doing just before He raised Lazarus?
(Side note: This verse brings deep comfort to those grieving a loss. I often remind myself—if Jesus wept over the death of His friend Lazarus, then I too can weep over the loss of a loved one. I truly believe Jesus weeps with us in our grief.)
But back to that astonishing verse: why did Jesus weep? He knew He would raise Lazarus—so why the tears? From a human perspective, it almost feels silly, odd or unnecessary. But this isn’t the only time Jesus is stricken with grief. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He prays in anguish, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” (Luke 22:42). Why such sorrow, if He knows His resurrection is coming? To answer that, we must go back—back to the beginning—back to the Garden.
God created man in His image (Genesis 1:27). In the Garden, man and woman walked with God. But then they hid from Him—because of their sin (Genesis 3:8). God gave them work to do (Genesis 2:15), but sin made that labor heavy and hollow. Humans were created to live in perfect, eternal harmony with God. But sin meant death—man would return to the dust (Genesis 3:19). It was all meant to be good. Actually, it was meant to be very good. There was no grief in Eden. Forever was real. And Adam and Eve were free to choose eternal life with God, or eternal separation from Him. They chose the fruit over the Gardener.
Some might ask, “Why all the fuss? They just ate a piece of fruit.” It seems as harmless as a child sneaking a cookie before dinner. I remember when my nephew, after already having dessert, snuck over to the table, took a single bite of a cookie, and ran away. Seems innocent enough, right? Should there be consequences? Probably. But a life with no more dessert? That feels excessive. That’s how many view the fall of Adam and Eve—just two people breaking a rule. But the truth is, it was far more than a stolen cookie. It wasn’t just disobedience. It was rebellion.
The Bible says we are made in God’s image. And 1 John 4:8 tells us that God is love. Not just a creator or sustainer—His very essence is love. Like the triune God, we were designed to love outwardly. The great sin of the garden wasn’t just unauthorized fruit—it was misdirected love. Adam and Eve chose to love themselves. That same impulse runs rampant today: “Love yourself.” “Live your truth.” “You do you.” Our culture praises inward focus. But we weren’t meant to love only ourselves. We weren’t meant to be our own creators, sustainers, or little gods.
Why does this story matter? When God found Adam and Eve afraid and exposed (Genesis 3:8), He removed them from the Garden (Genesis 3:23). Later, in Genesis 6:6, God expresses sorrow over creating mankind. Yes, God punished Adam and Eve. And yes, that punishment was just—like a parent correcting a child who dips a finger into the birthday cake. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The end of Genesis 6:6 says it “grieved Him to His heart.” Why? Was it only the wickedness of mankind? I think it was more. God grieved the lost relationship with His “very good” creation. God loves outwardly. He always has—from eternity past in the Trinity. When we reject Him, it breaks His heart. But He is merciful. Just think: how do we respond when someone we love wrongs us? Most of us don’t respond with grace. But God does.
Have you ever considered that God showed mercy to Adam and Eve even on that dreadful day? Paul affirms this idea in Romans:
“Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance? But because of your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed.” – Romans 2:4–5.
God is patient because He wants you. He wants what was meant to be. He wants restoration.
Rather than keeping Adam and Eve in His presence, God sent them away—for their protection. Their sin could not survive in the presence of His holiness. God’s holiness destroys sin. Think of every example in Scripture: Isaiah trembled in the temple, Moses’ face glowed after meeting with God, and Uzzah who tried to steady the Ark of the Covenant died on the spot.
Even pop culture understands this: in Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, when the Ark is opened, the sinful vanish into thin air. That’s fiction, but it captures a biblical truth—you can’t stand in the presence of a holy God with even the slightest stain of sin.
And yet, this holy God still grieved the separation. He loved His creation, showed mercy, and mourned the broken relationship. That includes you, me, and everyone in between. So why is Jesus found weeping at Lazarus’s tomb? Because He loves you, me, and everyone in between.
Jesus knows this isn’t how it was meant to be. And deep down, we know it too. We weren’t made for separation—we crave forever. In A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis, reflecting on the death of his wife, wrote, “I need Christ, not something that resembles Him. I want H., not something that is like her.”
I remember when my wife and I were in a long-distance relationship during her college years. We’d video call every day. I was thankful for the technology—but it wasn’t the same. You can’t hug through a screen. You can’t cry on someone’s shoulder through a text. A shared laugh loses its warmth over finicky audio.
In the same way, we long to be with Christ—not just hear about Him, sing to Him, or read about Him. Prayer, music, the Lord’s Supper, and Scripture are good, sanctifying gifts—but they don’t fully quench the eternal thirst within us. We still long for the day we see Him face to face.
Jesus knew death was never part of the original design. Man wasn’t created to experience the sting of death or the pain of separation—from the body, or from the loving presence of the triune God. Jesus came to restore what was broken. He came to bring closure to our pain.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” – John 3:16
The Father gave the Son. The Son embraced the cross. And in that moment, even the eternal unity of Father, Son, and Spirit bore the weight of separation—so we wouldn’t have to.
The Eternal Embrace: Where Closure Begins
If you keep reading Genesis, you’ll find a promise: the serpent—Satan—will be crushed for his deception (Genesis 3:15). Closure won’t be found in this life, but God says one day, by His own doing, it will come.
Jesus said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2:19). If you are in Christ, there is closure to your grief. If you pass today, you will enter heavenly rest with Him. But even that is not the end—it’s an intermediary state. A temporary pause. There’s more to come.
Jesus says the day is coming when “you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven” – Matthew 26:64.
In the Gospel of John, He promises that the dead will rise:
“Do not marvel at this, for an hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear His voice and come out—those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.” – John 5:28-29
He reaffirms in Matthew:
“I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob? He is not the God of the dead, but of the living.” – Matthew 22:32
One day, our pain will end. We won’t say goodbye through glass hospital windows. We won’t see fading shells of the ones we love. We’ll embrace them in fully restored, glorified, eternal minds and bodies. This is the promise of Jesus: a new heaven and a new earth, forever.
Do you believe Him?
Let’s close with a question Jesus asked in the same story—right before He was found weeping. He said to Mary:
“I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live. And everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die. Do you believe this?” – John 11:25–26
That’s the question Jesus asks each of us.
Do you believe He is the Living Word—through whom all things were made and are sustained? Do you believe He grieves with us, offers eternal closure, and welcomes us into an everlasting embrace?
If you don’t yet believe, I pray you’ll take time to read, pray, listen, and consider what it means to trust Jesus.
If you do believe—then rest in the eternal living hope that anchors your soul.
I hope this series has shown you that Jesus meets you right where you are.
I pray you hear His call through the noise of life.
I pray you see Him standing with arms wide open.
And I pray you feel the comfort of His eternal embrace.
Lit Lamp For The Soul 
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