by Liz Jakimow

Jesus wept.
But how did He weep?
Was it a soft moistening of the eyes
and a slight salting of the cheeks? 
Or were rivers of emotions released from His body,
disfiguring His face and shaking His body? 
Did the gnawing in His belly
erupt in an almighty howl
that caused those nearby to turn around? 
Or were we deaf to God’s grief even then? 

Jesus wept. 
But why did He weep?
Was it out of empathy for Mary and Martha, 
or was it for the friend whose spirit had departed? 
Or did He weep for a world in which Lazarus had to die,
for death is part of human experience,
but not part of the original plan? 

Jesus wept. 
Did know He would bring His friend back to life? 
or was it kept hidden for a time
in order that the fully human, fully divine
son of God might know what it is grieve? 
Did the tears He shed for the one who had died
extend into weeping for all those 
who would lose the people we loved,
for all those who would die themselves?
Did Jesus weep for me?

Jesus wept.
Two words.
They do not say much,
and yet they say enough to bring comfort. 

---

Liz Jakimow is a photographer and poet living in the beautiful Araluen valley in Australia. After losing a loved one, Liz’s photos and poems from the initial three-month grieving period came together in an exhibition and book titled A journey with grief: exploring loss through photography and poetry. Liz works as a communication officer for the Australian Centre for Christianity and Culture, where she edits their triannual publicationEngage, which features many of her photographs. She also has a Bachelor of Theology from St Mark’s National Theological Centre.