the language of tears.

I swear sometimes being a girl is freaking weird. Only a girl would understand why. But I found myself at work today working on some paperwork that had to get done and I couldn’t keep the tears back.

“Please Lord let no one walk into my office right now!”

I smile to hide how overwhelmed I am.

Sometimes the tears come and I have no idea why.
Those are the hardest ones to let fall.

I'm pretty sure every woman knows exactly what I'm talking about.

I could try and attach my tears to something of which would (most likely) be completely valid. But I spent too much of my life trying to fix myself. I quit that job a few years ago and refuse to re-hire myself for it. It’s a poor job anyway. So lately, I’ve just been letting them flow.

Lord, reveal my heart to me. Because sometimes it’s just a complicated and confused place.

I lean not on my own understanding.  Besides, I couldn't lean on my own understanding if I wanted to. Because I don't understand!

It’s so hard to be okay on a day (or a week) when you just don’t feel okay. I mean, “it’s all going to be okay.” That I know. That I believe. He is for my good all the time. They are not tears of despair. They are just tears. I am so incredibly thankful – even amidst the internal frustration I face lately.

It turns out that living out of my weakness is a giant pain in the you-know-what. I need him desperately,

"I need thee, oh how I need thee.  Every hour I need thee."  A favorite hymn I keep humming lately.

I think sometimes we forget that it’s okay to have a hard day… or a hard week. Or a hard year!  Sometimes (and maybe I’m just speaking for myself) I forget that Jesus wept too. He felt every emotion – the highest joys and the deepest sorrows – should I expect any different? He felt the pain of others. He felt the ache. The groaning of humanity. The longing. The righteous anger. The days when the heart just feels fragile. “When I am weak, He is strong.”

Sometimes I am simply too hard on myself, expecting things from myself that he knows I’m not ready for. I hide the tears and hold them back instead of letting them fall. I fear going in my room, shutting the door, falling on the floor and just crying. Because what does that even mean? (It doesn’t matter Cort just let it out) Or because…what if?  I have to "be strong" for people.  Even more, I have to "be strong" for myself.  I mean, I've got ish I have to get done!  When did I get so prideful?  Good grief!

I’ve noticed lately that sometimes I’m almost afraid to cry; as if tears are something to be ashamed of.  Afraid that, maybe, whatever it is he has to show me, I'm too scared to see.  Or what if I just let it all out and tell him how I'm feeling, and he's silent?  Sometimes I'm afraid to let myself be vulnerable to him, putting my heart out there, and risking his silence.  But then I think, that salty, soul-cleansing water, dripping down my face has to serve a purpose. As if God doesn’t use tears to do something inside of us that nothing else can. Just like laughter. Tears and laughter. Two very distinct, important, and purposed languages used by God. Do we know and can we make sense of exactly what they do in our hearts? No. There is no need.

So I cry til I laugh.

And I laugh til I cry.

Sometimes the heart just does things that we can’t explain, fix, or figure out. I have found lately it’s drawn me closer to him in a very unique way. I trust him to show me what I need to see. I really do want to see whatever it is he has to show me. I trust him to work it all out inside me, doing what he does best, and equipping me for what is to come.

What is this twirling and swirling feeling inside me? I can’t make sense of it. But he does. He knows exactly what he’s doing. And though I cannot put my finger on all that he’s doing, I can rest-assured, knowing that he’s moving within me, healing places, lighting up places, and toiling that soil in my soul; preparing me for something, ripening me for something.

And I go to the Psalms, “When my heart is overwhelmed within me; lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.”  

And so I wipe my tears off my face with the sleeve of my work shirt and keep working. I remind myself of what’s true, “God is my shepherd” and he would never lead this heart to a place it’s not prepared and willing to go. I remind myself that tears are okay – and often necessary to get the heart ready for what is to come. Just like laughter, they’re a language in and of themselves. And though these eyes speak the language, this mouth cannot interpret what they say. That I have officially left to my God from now on.

It’s okay to let them fall when they need to fall. They don’t freak him out (even if sometimes they freak me out!) There is a reason for every tear. Every single one is counted. Every single one is kept safely in his hands.

So I trust that he will use them – even when I don’t know why they fall or what they’re for; to wait on him with such a great hope and authentic gratitude that he is a good God ALL THE TIME even when I feel like this “asldkmoacijseriajsef.”

Oh, how eloquent.