180 minutes.

That's what the sign said above the new ride at the amusement park.

3 hours!

And people kept getting in line.

"Well, it's what we came here to do." We said.

We got in line and waited. We looked around at all the people. We waited. We studied the architecture of the exterior of the new ride. We waited. We admired the details. We waited. We discussed how amazing the ride was going to be. We  waited. We made friends with the family behind us. We waited.

You get the idea.

Eventually, we made it...or so I thought. We made it to the first part of the ride, the setup for the storyline of the experience. Then we waited some more. Then a simulated elevator. Then we waited some more.

It took forever.

And then, the ride. The amazing, unforgettable ride. The new thrills. The new ride technology. The big surprise. And then, it was over. Our hearts pounded as we recounted the details of the ride. The memories of the line faded away, and all we could think of was the amazing, awesome, wonderful ride.

I think the family and friends of Lazarus may have felt something similar. Their friend, their brother, died. He was dead. Really dead. Not close to death. Not mostly dead. Dead! They called on the only person they knew who could do anything about it, and the response was something akin to, "I'll be there when I get there."

Actually, it went like this,

John 11:4-7

But when Jesus heard about it he said, “Lazarus’s sickness will not end in death. No, it happened for the glory of God so that the Son of God will receive glory from this.