Tears

I’m going to post earlier today since I was a slacker on Friday…it was my wedding anniversary, after all. But hey, I am fully aware of my uber important responsibilities as a blogger. ūüėČ

Let’s talk about tears; ¬†(I’m not a fan, by the way). ¬†They have a purpose and a place; who can argue that? ¬†But you must admit, most of us in the western world have mixed feelings and responses to tears- from infancy to elderly. I mean, think about it, the first sound most tiny humans make is a cry and it’s a wonderful, glorious sound to the vast majority of mothers everywhere, the sound of new life. ¬†However, that same infant crying throughout the night 6 weeks later…not so glorious. Come on, am I right? ¬†Who jumps out of bed at 4a.m., for the 3rd time since midnight, for the 10th night in a row, shouting, “What a glorious sound my child is making!”? ¬†My point.

Children shed tears, sometimes over skinned knees, upon which Moms or Dads smother kisses and place band aids, or sometimes over blocks that were knocked down. ¬†Tears are shed when kids¬†argue with siblings, don’t get their way, or when big brother hits him or her too hard. ¬†Parents often grow weary of the tears and tell children to ‘dry it up’ or, ‘get over it’ or ‘toughen up’. ¬†One of my personal favorites, which my husband and I heard while growing up, was along the lines of, ‘ knock that off or I’ll give you something to cry about!’ ¬†Very comforting, I assure you.

OK, so enter adolescence when hormones are raging and it seems like everything disassembles into anger or tears or both. YIKES! ¬†What happened to my child?! ¬†Who sucked his/her brains out and replaced them with a monster’s brain? ¬†Many¬†of us, out of fear and confusion, may respond with the same rhetoric-get over yourself! Suck it up! Knock it off!

The teen years are slightly better…but only slightly. ¬†Tears aren’t quite as prolific, thank the good Lord Almighty! ¬†Unless the boyfriend breaks up or the BFF talks behind her back…Or…by then we have learned to cry those tears into the pillow rather than into someone’s shoulder.

You¬†see, by the time I reached adulthood, I had learned well, for I was a good student, to knock it off ¬†or dry it up and cry into my pillow…and then I just didn’t cry much, anymore. ¬†I am positive that there are many, many like me because several of us were raised by the ‘Greatest Generation’, a very hardworking, yet completely stoic group of folks. ¬†Mom was much younger…but she had her own issues.

ALL¬†of that generational lesson is to explain that the tears thing leads to this: since the doctors took my estrogen away I have been a crying MESS. ¬†Just because my type of breast cancer is 90% fed by estrogen, they told me I can’t¬†take it anymore-BIG, HAIRY DEAL!!!

I. Am. A. Crazy. Woman! (If you don’t believe me, ask my poor, dear, patient, loving husband! ‚̧ԳŹ)

I cry about my grandkids being gone. ¬†A lot. ¬†I cry about my daughter moving away. ¬†I cry about my son possibly moving farther away and my youngest granddaughter growing up without really knowing us. ¬†I cry about a friend who has to have surgery, again, for the same thing, in less than a year. ¬†I cry about the sinful state of our nation. ¬†There’s more, but I won’t bore you to tears.¬†

Here’s the deal- this tearfulness is very new and uncomfortable for me…Gary has been the cryer in our marriage, and I’m fine with that, (although at first, many decades ago, it embarrassed me). ¬†And I know I am opening myself up for some spiritualized comments about how God is using all this to do thus and so, blah, blah, blah. ¬†YES- HE IS! ¬†But please don’t minimize the physical things my body is enduring: ¬†I have an itchy rash on my chest; I have one pink, sensitive ta-ta and one white one, (sorry to embarrass the male population); I can’t make it through many days without a nap; and my emotions are all over the map. And you know what? ¬†As crazy as it sounds, by God’s grace, I can manage all of it except the tears…it totally ruins my eye makeup!!!

For those who are growing impatient, I am about finished…last night the Lord brought to mind a precious Psalm to remind me that He is well aware of my struggle with the tears thing- and I clutched it and held it close to my heart. ¬†Psalm 56:8

You number my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?

I wonder how many bottles God has lined up with my name on them?

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. ¬†Also, He has put eternity into man’s heart…yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

I may never see the endgame for what God was doing with this period of my life, although I do find myself longing for eternity more often.

But wow, I bet those bottles are beautiful…

 

 

 

 

 

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thejourneywithme.blog

A lover of Jesus since the age of 10, I am a wife to my beloved Gary, a mom of 3 and grandmother of 6. I'm a former hospital chaplain and licensed marriage and family therapy associate. My favorite therapy is dirt therapy, AKA, perennial flower gardening, and I enjoy a good mystery any time, anywhere. Chronic migraines keep me sidelined more than I like, but ever so gradually I am learning that God’s strength truly is made perfect in weakness.

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