Hello Hatters,
Tender hearts wears their feelings on their sleeve. Teary eyes need a sleeve sometimes. Call it sentimental; call it emotional. Let me introduce myself, that’s me.
A walk through memory lane reminds me of many tender times.
As a youngster, I often cried when I was corrected. In my school years through college, I sang in various choirs. During rehearsals and concerts, my chin would quiver and my eyes would water as music touched a deep part of my soul.
In my career, I held up pretty well, but not always. Hearing crippling news in the lives of my colleagues turned my focus to their pain. I cried. In my own work life, many situations brought sadness or happiness along with weeping.
The pathway to motherhood was a long journey and one with many years of empty arms and many tears. When I became a mother, I knew it was a miracle and a blessing. Happy times brought happy tears. On the flip side, one of the hardest things for a mom to witness is the suffering of her children. I remember in my early years, one of my toddlers was being tested for allergies with those horrible needles. The doctor came in while we waited for results and saw me wiping tears from my eyes. He said, “Way to go, mom; Way to hold it together!” I couldn’t help it. My natural response was to hurt because my kid hurt.
When my Country Hubby was injured in 2001, our lives changed forever. Watching my loved one being in pain was hard. He gave his recovery everything he had, but some of his disabilities from the injuries continued throughout the rest of his lifetime. I remember right after the accident, we had to figure out a path forward and that journey was bathed in tears and constant change.
To this day, my eyes will turn misty during a stirring movie, a good sermon, a special book, or a touching story. On my recent visit to Alaska, it was easy to shed tears in the awe of the marvels I witnessed. I’m just a softy. I don’t try to stop it. I’m just me with a gentle heart that keeps me focused on what really matters.
Now then, the lament that rains down during grief is in a whole other category of crying. I am all too familiar with that kind of sobbing, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. My daily walk brings emotions, smiles, frowns, and the need for a tissue box in almost every room.
Somehow, I know that I’m stronger if I don’t pretend to be ok all the time. While it is a paradox, I grasp the knowledge that It takes too much energy to be fake. I am also comforted by Psalms 56, which says that God collects our tears in a bottle. I know He is present with me and I am precious to Him.
Additionally, my hope in Revelation 21:4 in the Bible states, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” ESV
As a writer who wears many hats just like you, I’m glad to understand the healing aspects of a good cry. Tears don’t change the circumstances, but they are the release, the relief, and the expression needed for someone just like me.
MT Penny