Tears

Max and I use the Upper Room for our devotions at breakfast. Monday’s entry began with a couple going on a long-anticipated trip shortly after their retirement. A wave of grief hit me. Jeff and I did a lot of traveling in our early days, and we had enjoyed the travels we could take with kids in tow. There were places we still wanted to go visit, and favorite places to revisit. As I read, I suddenly felt the loss of a dream.

After my father died, those waves of grief often hit me at choir rehearsal as we sang phrases in hymns and anthems. I intentionally sat at the end of the pew during rehearsals so that I could simply turn my head towards the window and hide my tears. By the time Sunday morning came, I knew what we were singing and I was able to sing the words without tears.

I know that there are moments in sermons, especially during our current series, when I get choked up, but I have never liked crying in front of others. My boys have always liked to tease me about tearing up while watching movies. In reality, usually my eyes water up and that’s all. When somebody sees them, generally they stop.

I have a first-century tear vase that Jeff brought back from one of his trips to the Holy Land. The story about the tear vase is that a woman would catch in them her tears from the significant times in her life. After learning that tradition, I have always seen the woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears as pouring out all the tears of her life, not just those of a moment.

Grief and tears are something I am going to need to ponder further, but probably not where others will see me.

Luke 7:38b

She stood behind him at his feet, weeping, and began to bathe his feet with her tears and to dry them with her hair.