LYNNE RIENSTRA | GUEST

I was at our denomination’s General Assembly when I received the call from my radiologist: “Mrs. Rienstra, your tests reveal that you have breast cancer.” Fast forward to six weeks later. As my husband was driving me home from the surgery that removed my cancer, a car ran a stop sign and slammed into us, right in front of where I was sitting. Within minutes I found myself in an ambulance on my way to yet another hospital.

Crisis. It’s the gift none of us wants. Because when crisis comes, it broadsides us. It reminds us that in spite of our best efforts, we are ultimately out of control. Crisis exposes us as those who are in deep need and unable to help ourselves. It causes us to cry out to God.

But what if at that very point, crisis turned out to be a gift?

Crisis Reveals More of God to Us

When crisis hit the family of Mary and Martha of Bethany (John 11:1-44), they never dreamed that embedded in the sickness of their brother Lazarus was the extraordinary opportunity to experience Jesus in a whole new way.

The sisters knew two things: Jesus loved them and their brother (vv. 3; 5), and Jesus had the power to heal. So, when their brother Lazarus fell ill, they did what any of us would have done: they asked Jesus for help. Having sent for Jesus, the sisters expected to see Him arrive quickly and save the day.

Only He didn’t. One day passed, and Lazarus worsened. Another day passed, and their worst fears were realized. Lazarus died. Lazarus was buried. And still no sign of Jesus….

When Jesus finally did come, Martha ran out to meet Him, saying, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (v. 21). With Lazarus’s body decaying in a nearby tomb, Jesus made the stunning revelation that He is “resurrection and the life” (v. 25). And in faith-filled response, Martha proclaimed, “Yes, Lord; I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God…” (v. 27). Here’s my question: Would this essential truth have been revealed to Martha apart from the wrenching loss of her brother?

Let’s also consider her sister, Mary, still back at the house, suffering in deep grief. This is the Mary whom Jesus had invited to sit at His feet. She had chosen the better part. Mary knew Jesus loved her and her brother. But the crisis of Lazarus’s death may have caused her to wonder (as we often do in our own crises): “Why didn’t Jesus come? I thought I knew Him. I must have lost His love.”

When Martha, fresh from her encounter with Jesus, returned to the house to tell her sister, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you” (v. 28), Mary ran out to meet Jesus and fell at His feet.

Crisis Reveals God’s Heart for Us

Can you see Mary in that moment? Not only heart-broken over the loss of her brother, but she was also likely struggling to trust Jesus.

She was not the only heart-broken one. Scripture pulls back the curtain on the depth of Jesus’s compassion for our suffering in verse 33: “When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.”

As Mary fell at His feet, her tears were met with His. Scripture simply tells us, “Jesus wept” (v. 35).

Though Jesus knew that He was about to call Lazarus out of the tomb—offering irrefutable proof of His claim to be the “resurrection of the life”—He entered into the depth of grief caused by His friend Lazarus’s death.

The Gift of Crisis

This is the same Savior who entered into my suffering when I knew I was in a battle for my life. Cancer gave me the gift of facing my mortality. It strengthened my footing on the Rock of my Salvation, who on the cross already dealt definitively with the greatest danger I face: eternity apart from a holy God. Jesus Christ reminded me that I am His, and He is mine, now and forever.

Through His Holy Spirit, Jesus was also right there with my husband and me as our car was totaled and we were battered. Even in the moment of impact, I was surrounded with a pervasive sense of His peace and shalom. Wonderfully, the accident became a portal for me to experience dwelling “in the shelter of the Most High” (Psalm 91:1).

Jesus came for Mary and Martha and Lazarus. He had compassion for them. He was present with them in their crisis.

As He was with me.

And as He is with you, sister, in the crisis you now face.

What if the deepest desire of your heart (to know and be sheltered in Christ) turned out to be what He most longs to give you? What if your crisis turned out to be the gift through which you receive it?

Photo by Amin Hasani on Unsplash