It’s the rest of the week. When last did your tears sneak up on you unawares?
Tears are not easily controlled. You can’t just summon them at will, and it can be quite difficult to hold them back once they’ve slipped into the corners of your eyes.
Tears come from somewhere deep inside of us—so deep that if we can trace them back to their source, we just might find a shortcut to our hearts.
What brings tears to your eyes?
a line from a song that expresses some forgotten longing?
a phrase of music that taps into a distant memory?
a visual image so comforting that you feel it in your bones?
the relief of long awaited good news?
the shock of devastating news?
that part of a movie or book that pulls you into the story?
perhaps a kind word spoken with such compassion that your heart throws open a door?
or the opposite—the pang of a word or an action that catches you off guard— such that you might cry, but you may be more likely to rely on a quick defense?
There are at least a thousand ways to avoid feeling embarrassed or hurt, many of which come off as quite noble and saintly, not to mention convenient (when you don’t have time to stop long enough to feel and learn from whatever comes up).
Last Monday, something seemingly insignificant happened in a phone call when the connection was lost at an inopportune time. It would have been so easy to ignore the pang, but I didn’t and those tears led me to a place of discovery that helped me find new footing in my heart and rest for my soul.
It was a big and exciting week involving work, meetings, long hours on the road and a fun day in New York City with the joy of hearing Gabriel perform at Carnegie Hall.
I am thankful for tears.
I like the idea of my tears being cherished—collected into God’s bottle and recorded into his book—rather than bottled up somewhere inside of me (Psalms 56:8).
May your tears invite you to places of rest and may your rest be sweet.
Alicia