I’ve been reading a devotional for Lent, not something I have ever done before. But it looks at Jesus life and how He interacted with those around Him. The reading that struck me was about Jesus being at the scene of a funeral, not an uncommon scene in Israel. This struck me because my husband and I were at a funeral home today for a dear friend who just lost her father. What stuck out in this reading is that Jesus didn’t just pass by the funeral, or even allow it to pass by Him respectfully. He actually entered into it.

He fully saw and felt the woman’s grief at losing her only son. There were quite a few reasons this was a devastating loss for this woman, the first being it was her child. The second reason being she was a widow meaning she had no one to care for her and she would basically be at the mercy of relatives if she had any or those people who might have pity on her. She has lost everything. A stable home, family, even her everyday potential for food.

Jesus, of course, knew all of this. And He stopped the processional and truly saw her. He saw her grieving the loss of her son, and the loss of her independence. So Jesus did what no one else could do, He raised her son from the dead. He breathed life back into him. He gave the woman back her family, her food, her fortune quite possibly. He reinstated her position in Jewish society. All because He entered into the lowest point of her life, He took it on Himself, He made a choice to help her, and by helping her He made an impact on her for years to come.

We have that ability. To raise my friends father from the dead? Unfortunately no. I would if I could for her. But I can enter into her grief. I can offer her comfort and support. I can literally sit in the darkness with her. It may not be where I feel most comfortable, or where I enjoy being. But if it helps my friend, then it is right where I am supposed to be.

God has called us to love our neighbors. Sometimes that means going out of our way to do things that we may not choose to do on first glance. But those things may be what is most needful at the time and what truly reaches the heart of those we are serving. We, by doing the hard thing, the messy thing, the dark thing, are being the hands and feet of Jesus. We are entering the funeral procession, grieving with that mother and then changing the trajectory of her life forever by raising her son from the dead. Literally, no. Figuratively, absolutely. Sit in the dark hard places with someone. When they come out the other side ask them if they could have made it without you there. You may literally have saved them from their own funeral. Go be the hands and feet of Jesus. Get dirty. You can get clean. But if you stay clean, you miss what huge impact you might have had being in the dark pit with the one God called you to help today. Don’t miss the honor and blessing of serving like our Lord.