Volume 29, No.35                                       
September 12 2004

Containing the Tears  

   In most of us there is a secret place of pain and turmoil where loss lives with doubt and indirection, and dreams go to die. It’s a solitary place where comfort cannot come because the hurt, the heartache is unshared, sometimes even unspoken.  

   In that deep, secluded recess of the soul, there’s a brooding darkness born of fear or frustration, disappointment or despair, or guilt and regret.  Who we should be, or want to be, comes into stark and stunning conflict with who we really are.  We carry the oppressive weight of a heavy heart that refuses to sync up with what we know to be true.

  That inner emptiness often echoes with cries of love lost, or love never found in the first place. Some of us feel life is passing us by while we hold on and hold out for a heaven we’d gladly trade, if it weren’t for the guilt and fear. In some cases, an overwhelming sense of failure flows from the simple acknowledgment that we just don’t want what God wants. Caught between faltering faith and our own frustration,we grapple with growing hopelessness as Satan whispers in our ear that nothing will ever change.

   If the anguish goes unaided, it’s either because we fear people won’t understand or we fear, even more, that they will.  We worry about burdening others with our problems, or undermining our trust and example.  So we hide away the hurt until the next time we can nurse it along, alone.

   Eventually, each of us must replace our pride with transparency, if only with one person we trust.  Someone who knows us, loves us and believes, not just in us, but in God’s ability to change us.  But even before then, we must pour out the conflicted contents of our hearts before the very One we feel so distant from.

   We can trust God with our tears.  He doesn’t hold them against us, or see in them a sign of weakness.  Far from it, the Psalmist paints a beautiful picture of how our faithful, steadfast Father honours our struggle, acknowledges our pain and acts upon those pangs of loss and longing without recrimination.

   But to fully understand David’s meaning, it helps to know about “tear bottles”, the beautifully ornate glass containers routinely found in Middle East tombs.  In ancient times, mourners at a funeral would place some of their tears in the delicate bottles which were then buried with the departed one.  It was a symbol of love mingled with loss, and a connection between the pain of the present and the promise of what lay ahead.

   It’s one of those tear bottles David writes of in Psalm 56 when he cries out to God after being taken prisoner by his Philistine enemies. Even in the face of death, David remembers the love and strength of the One who makes him who he is.  “I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?” he asks defiantly.  “What can mere mortals do to me?”

   David knows they can do plenty.  The Philistines were experts at torture and cruelty and eager to kill him (v.6.)  If they choose to do so, it won’t be quick or painless. But listen to what the Psalmist says from the depths of his anguish.  “You keep track of all my sorrows.  You’ve collected all my tears in your bottle.  You’ve recorded each one in your book.”  (v.8)  God knows and feels the intensity of our pain, even when we refuse to bring it to Him.  He has the empathy to understand, but He also has the boundless power to change hearts and lives, once we’re ready to let Him.

   “This I know,” declares David.  “God is on my side.” (v. 10).  His response is one of trust, gratitude and submission.  “I’ll fulfill my vows to you, O God, and offer a sacrifice of thanks for your help.  For you’ve rescued me from death;  you’ve kept my feet from slipping. So now I can walk in your presence; your life-giving light.”

   We may have to walk with tears in our eyes, doing the right thing because of who we are, not because of what we want.  But God is on our side and at our side. He has rescued us from death and is able to hold us on the path, even when we’re sliding. So, next time you’re tempted to keep your tears bottled up, let God do it.

By Rick Gamble, published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the Followers of Christ congregation in Brantford, Ontario, Canada.  Reprint at will in not-for-profit publications.  To subscribe to this free, weekly article, contact sgamble@bfree.on.ca