Jesus Wept
- Jesus Loves Strippers

- 1 day ago
- 4 min read
by Jaz James

Hey Friend,
When Jesus stood outside Lazarus's tomb and wept, the people around Him were confused. Some thought He was crying because He'd arrived too late. Others wondered why He hadn't prevented the death in the first place. But John tells us something remarkable: Jesus wept even though He had already told the disciples,
"This sickness will not end in death" (John 11:4).
He knew exactly what was about to happen. He had the power, the plan, and the promise already in motion.
So why the tears?
Because love feels things. Real love doesn't bypass grief on its way to victory. It doesn't skip over the broken places because it knows they'll eventually be healed. Jesus wept because death, even temporary death, was never part of the original design. He wept because His friends were in pain. He wept because in that moment, standing at that tomb, the full weight of a fractured world pressed in on Him.
Love doesn't wait until everything is resolved to be present. It stands in the tension between what is and what could be, and it doesn't look away when it hurts.
When Your Child is in a Place You Never Imagined
Maybe your daughter is dancing at a club. Maybe she's involved in something that makes your stomach turn. Maybe the life she's living looks nothing like the one you prayed over her crib, the one you imagined during bedtime stories and first days of school.
And your heart is breaking in ways you don't even have language for.
You might be cycling through fear. "What if she gets hurt? What if this becomes her life?" You might be wrestling with anger. "How could she choose this? Doesn't she know what this is doing to us?" There's probably confusion. Where did we go wrong? What did we miss? And underneath it all, there may be shame, and a quiet, suffocating voice that asks, "What will people think? What does this say about me as a parent?"
Those feelings are real, and they're heavy. But here's what you need to know: Jesus isn't standing at a distance, shaking His head in disappointment. He's not embarrassed by your child. He's not asking, "How could she?" with disgust in His voice.
He's close to her.
Closer than anyone in that club realizes. Closer than she might even feel right now.
God's Not Done With Her
We have this tendency to believe that certain choices disqualify people from God's presence. We are convinced that there are places too dark, decisions too far gone, lifestyles too messy for Him to enter. But that's not the God we meet in Scripture.
Jesus walked right into the spaces that religious people avoided.
He sat with tax collectors, touched lepers, and defended the woman caught in adultery. He didn't wait for people to clean themselves up before He loved them. He loved them into transformation. Your child's choices don't put her out of reach. They don't make her unlovable or unredeemable. And they don't mean you failed as a parent.
There are a myriad of reasons that people choose to dance. Maybe they're numbing pain, seeking to belong, trying to feel powerful in a world that's made them feel small. They're filling voids with whatever's available, even when it's hollow.
The dancing, the lifestyle, the choices that break your heart, they're often symptoms of something deeper. A wound she's trying to heal in a way you don't understand. A need she's trying to meet in a place you fear. A voice she's trying to silence with a louder noise.
God sees all of that. He understands the heart behind the behavior in ways we never could. And He's not standing outside her world, shouting for her to get herself together before He'll come close.
He's walking right into the darkness.
He's sitting beside her in it. And He's loving her back to life.
Jesus Wept Before He Worked the Miracle
Maybe right now, you feel like your prayers aren't working. Like God isn't listening, or like He's disappointed in you as a parent. Maybe you're wondering if you should have prayed more, set firmer boundaries, been stricter or gentler, or somehow different. But Jesus wept before He raised Lazarus. He didn't skip the grief and go straight to the miracle. He entered fully into the pain of the moment, even knowing what was coming next.
He's weeping with you, too.
He knows how much you love your child, even when the love gets tangled up with fear and frustration. Even when you don't have words for what you're feeling. He sees the prayers you've whispered in the middle of the night, the tears you've cried when no one was watching, the way your heart clenches every time your phone rings. So don't shut your heart down trying to protect it. Don't let fear harden you into judgment. Don't let shame convince you to pull away from her, or from God.
The same Jesus who stood at Lazarus's tomb is standing in your story, too. He's loving your child with a fierce, relentless, unshakeable love. He's loving you through this heartbreak. And He's already preparing something you can't see yet: A moment of resurrection, a return to life.
Because she's not too far gone.
The prodigal son was eating with pigs, and the father still watched the road. The woman at the well had five failed marriages, and Jesus still asked her for a drink. Peter denied Jesus three times, and Jesus still made him breakfast on the beach.
Stay Soft
This is one of the hardest things you'll ever walk through. But don't let it make you hard. Don't let the pain calcify into bitterness or judgment. Don't let fear build walls between you and the child you're aching for.
Stay soft enough to weep. Stay open enough to hope. Stay tender enough to love even when you don't understand.
Because that's what Jesus is doing.
And one day—maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day—you'll look back and see that He was there all along. Weeping with you. Working in ways you couldn't see. Preparing the resurrection.
He's not done. The miracle is coming.
*****
Jaz James is the director of Strip Church and founder of Lace Warriors, a strip club ministry that serves over 200 entertainers in West Texas and Northern Mexico.



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