I cry a lot. By a lot, I suppose I mean more than most people. I learned to pay attention to my tears; they were always a compass pointing to something important. In conversation with a stranger, tears allowed me to hone in on the place where conversation was meant to plunge deep. In prayer, tears became a bridge between the world I knew and the wider Universe I could only imagine. In music and art, tears pointed the way to Kingdom, regardless of the genre. And the rest of the time... well, tears gave others something to laugh at.
There's this sensor in my car that lights a red warning on my dashboard nearly all the time. If the gas cap isn't screwed on absolutely perfectly, tiny wisps of air are enough to set off the sensor, and it can only be re-set by the mechanic. I don't have it in me to visit the mechanic weekly. Frankly, my mechanic doesn't have it in him either. So I've learned to ignore the red warning light.
There was a time a while back when I stopped trusting my tears. I found myself crying six to eight hours a day, over nothing. I thought I could muscle my way through; pull myself out of it. Eventually a friend convinced me to go to the doctor, and as it happens, my tears had been a red warning light trying to speak the whole time. The tears had been trying to tell me I have a chemical imbalance. I got a prescription. The long crying jags stopped after the first pill. All was well with the world.
Except for the fact that I'd trained myself to ignore all tears. I'd stopped trusting the compass that had served me so well.
It's time to hold on to that compass again. To learn to trust. To know when I read stories that bring tears, I need to pay attention.
9 comments:
It can be hard to recognize those warming signs ourselves and it often takes others to help us see them. So glad you had a friend to help you through. May your compass always point true North. Big hug.
Your words ring true with me today. Tears come often for me too, especially when I stare my own mortality in the face and what that will mean for the daughter I'll leave behind. I feel a sense of urgency to leave behind at least a visual legacy through photos so as she grows older and wonder who her mom really was, the photos can tell her what I'm no longer able to. Like Kathryn, I hope your compass always points true North. Thinking of you.
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You ladies are lovely. :)
This post probably came across more... sad(?) than I'd intended. Wrestling with a lot, but it's all so good. And learning again to trust the tears will be so so good.
I'm still scooping up every single hug, friends :)
xoxo
I love it that the bible says that angels cry (in REvelation) when people come to faith :) I think tears are a tool of God but yeah sometimes they can get out of His balance.
<3
praying for God's balance
for you that you'd see the world though His eyes laugh and cry with Him and He with you
and continue to be blessed and be a blessing
Lorna... yes, I'd never want to lose that... the ability to cry with God. That means to compassion is very powerful. Thanks for your encouragement :)
I came here from Jen Lemen. I cry a lot as well and what I've noticed lately, over the past few years, is that when I hit upon a truth, I can feel my tears starting. It's a signal for me to pay attention, this is true. Glad to know I'm not the only one.
Stunning! I loved reading your post ... So glad you are not discounting your tears anymore. I cry easily ... and in the first year of moving to a new country and marrying a stranger : ) , I cried a WHOLE lot. It was like my body needed the release. I am so thankful I didn't fight them then, but allowed them to wash & heal me. I still cry easily and embrace these tears. They are usually indicators of something I need to pay attention to.
I LOVE how much you are writing ... Where have I been?? Such great stuff. Thank you for sharing your heart, Erin.
PS: So bummed I didn't take you to Notti Biscotti when you were here ... one of my favorite places around.
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