Tears

Why is it we resist digging deep and allowing ourselves to cry? Are we out of touch with our true emotions, too proud, not willing to face the possibility of not being able to control it?

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love ~Washington Irving

I'm thinking of tears at the moment since my sister in law, Shelley and her husband George are standing beside George's dad, Tony, suffering with lung cancer on the brink of eternity. Overwhelming grief and helplessness and unspeakable love they feel at this moment. We are so sad for them.



I've just finished reading the book, "The Shack" which is NY Times bestseller, fictional work wrestling with the question of where God is in a world of unspeakable pain. This excerpt about crying made me pause.... (Papa is the name the main character Mack eventually comes to use for God, the Father.)

"Thank you," was all he could say to Papa as once more a waterfall rolled down his cheeks as if from an endless reservoir. "I hate all this - this crying and blubbering like an idiot, all these tears," he moaned.
"Oh child," spoke Papa tenderly. "Don't ever discount the wonder of your tears. They can be healing waters and a streams of joy. Sometimes they are the best words the heart can speak."
Mack pulled back and looked Papa in the face. Such pure kindess and love and hope and living joy he had never stared into. "but you promised that someday there will be no more tears? I'm looking forward to that."
Papa smiled, reached the back of his fingers to Mack's face, and ever so gently wiped his tear-tracked cheeks. "Mackenzie, this world is full of tears, but if you remember I promised that it would be Me who would wipe them from your eyes." Mack managed a smile as his soul continued to melt and heal in the love of his Father.