Tears

Over the last few days the topic of crying has come to mind. Mostly how to prevent myself from doing it. 

I think about being invited to look at Christmas lights in a limo a few weeks ago and Jared jumping at the chance. But me? No way! The thought of being trapped was too overwhelming. What if I lost it?

I think about our minister, who performed the graveside service, calling a few days later to check in. He said he had to debrief with another minister after the service because it was overwhelming.  He mentioned looking up and seeing the tears streaming down my face and then glancing behind me to see the same in my Dad.

I think about the many times Andrew has "pretend cried" about Charlie.  The boy can bawl because his sister rips his art work but his brother dying. That's a different story.  And yes, I know this is completely normal. 

I wonder why I sat through Le Mis and The Impossible and didn't shed a tear.  I loved the movies and felt the pain and sadness but not one tear.

During the holidays, I rarely had to hold it together and I could always walk out of the room or leave the event if it got to be too much.  But with the start of school and activities this week that won't be the case. I worry about making others uncomfortable or breaking into the ugly cry?

Why can't I cry like Monica Potter? "Kristina" bawls through every episode of Parenthood and somehow looks cute doing it!

All this concern about crying made me think what does God say about tears? Okay I didn't really come up with the question on my own. As a good southern woman would say, " God placed it on my heart." He did so through a book my Dad recently brought over...on his Harley. 

book of Hope by Nancy Guthrie is a one year devotional and so far it completely speaks to me. I guess it wasn't a coincidence that he just "felt" he was supposed to buy it after seeing it out of place several times in Costco.

I didn't realize what scared me so much about crying until I read this passage.

I used to rarely cry, but now tears are always close to the surface, just waiting to be released.  It is as if there is a broken place inside me where tears are stored.  Letting them out has been the only way to release the pressure of the pain. Along with relief, there is also the uncomfortable loss of control that is a companion to tears, isn't there?

Bingo that's it. Control. I need it. I thrive on it. But I no longer have it. Charlie taught me that and these tears reinforce it.

Andrew cries over a ripped paper but I can see a bigger picture and I know his sadness is temporary. I think that is how Jesus felt when He saw the people crying for Lazarus. Yet, he didn't belittle their pain or tell them to get over it or even try to distract them.

He wept.

I think He cried for the hurt Mary and Martha felt and because He could see what they couldn't.

I believe Charlie is being loved and cared for in a perfect place.  I have faith that he is happy and healthy.  But because I am human I don't comprehend the way He does and so I grieve.  And because I cry so does He.  My God doesn't tell me not to cry or to hide it but that He will cry with me and collect my tears and someday wipe them all away forever.

So if I cry when someone speaks to me, it will be okay.  They shouldn't feel guilty for making me cry because they didn't.  Losing Charlie did.  It isn't comfortable to be the one that everyone feels uncomfortable around, but I can't change it. 

So I will take a deep breath, say a prayer and get in the carpool line...with God wiping away the tears.

You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.  Revelation 21:4
 
Jesus wept. John 11:35