FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

 

     For many years, I was unable to cry. When I faced difficult situations, I tried to maintain my composure in front of my children. “Gotta stay strong so I don’t scare them,” I thought. I did not want to upset their peace. But after this season in my life, I found it hard to release my pain through tears, crying it out. 

     For decades, no tears came to release the emotions I felt. The years numbed me from this simple expression that would help to empty my soul of the sadness and hurt. I prayed. I forgave. I stayed connected to God and truly believed in his goodness. God gave me a reason to go on, especially when I looked into the faces of my six children—these uniquely fashioned gifts from God gave me multiple reasons for joy and peace. 

     One weekend, years later, I read a book, How to Heal a Broken Heart in 30 Days, by Howard Bronson and Mike Riley. On day two, the tip was: Cry Till You’re Dry. They proceeded to share the benefits of crying, which is not a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of healing. I sat, thinking of all the sad things, a few tears left my eyes, but it was pretty manufactured, not like it should be. Maybe because I stopped the flow so long ago and for so long. Reading this revelation changed my whole outlook and gave me permission.

     Many children of Israel returned to Jerusalem after 900 years of captivity in Babylon. Generations of their people came and went. Their books of the Torah, which hold the law passed down from God to Moses, waited to be rediscovered upon their return. 

     The first day of the seventh month after their return to rebuild Jerusalem, Ezra stood on a scaffold, high above the people, so his voice could project to them all. He began by reading the books of the Law. He read from early morning until noon.

     When the people heard the holy scriptures written down for their remembrance and the truth set down to guide their godly living, they began to weep. 

     Unashamedly, they cried and cried hard as they realized how far off from God’s standard they had fallen. They cried at how sweet the words sounded. They wept for the hard years that cost them dearly and for the revelation and the beauty of the holy words. This moment in time changed them. They knew God’s commands were for their good, to provide them with a healthy community, for justice, for order, and safety.

     One day, I broke down and let out a howl of agony. Alone in my house, I spoke out loud those disappointments, my distress, my failures, and my longings. Then there was a stillness and silence. A calm warmth surrounded me like one of the softest blankets. A sort of change in the atmosphere, and I felt cleansed inside. So to a degree, I understand the reaction of the Jews when, after 900 years of bondage in Babylon, they release unto God their pain and grief over their shortcomings due to their ignorance.

     The story does not end there. Nehemiah, who led them in rebuilding the walls and restoring Jerusalem and the Temple, encouraged the people to eat and enjoy the good food and sweet drinks. Share with those who have nothing. Do not grieve anymore. “For the joy of the Lord is your strength.”

     Yes, the joy of the Lord is my strength. I find that I can persevere when I focus on and trust God daily. He is justice. He is goodness. He is my reason to sing. He is my best friend. He is faithful. He knows what is best for me. When I struggle or have a good cry, he doesn't judge me; instead, he loves me unconditionally. No matter what, when I repent, he forgives. I have a future with him, and so do all who believe in Jesus. 

Nehemiah 8:1-10 is the reference for Ezra's reading of the law and Nehemiah's encouragement to eat and rejoice.

The song below by Martin Smith and the band will get you going in the right direction if you ever find yourself in a slump and need reminding that the joy of the Lord is your strength. Click the link below to lift your spirits!

Garment of Praise (London) Martin Smith

WAKING AFTER ELEVEN

     

     My head lifted from the pillow for the second time. Morning light peeked in my way through shuttered windows. Taking inventory, I felt rested, without the normal residue of haze that often accompanied my rising on other days this spring, due to the free-blown pollen from trees and plants, which had shared their wealth.

     Surely my eyes deceived me. Glancing at my bedside clock, I initially mistook the time for five minutes before six. No, it could not be. My husband left the house hours ago. The garage door groaned as its lift woke me, and it was light outside. Picking up my watch, I checked in disbelief. Not five before six, but half past eleven! Even though I am not a morning person, this was half past Tuesday, and most of my day was spent in dream-filled slumber.
     Embarrassed, a few minutes later when the phone rang, I admitted to Jerry that, yes, I was up, but when he pulled in for a coffee with me at 11:45, the whole story came out about the few moments that had transpired in my day before he arrived. We laughed. Quite unusual for me, though retired, I still like to get a good start on the day, especially today. 
     Today, Tuesday, is the beginning of my three-day writing spree. I reserve these days for creativity. Yesterday, Monday, I laundered clothes, sheets, and towels, stretched sourdough, swept and mopped the front porch, and cut up produce to add to a roast. So, today I panicked as it struck me that half of my precious creative Tuesday was spent comatose.
     Then, lingering over coffee, I read some lines from a thoughtful poet. I clicked to hear a recording of her reading her own words, hoping to gain a deeper understanding of her message. She read deliberately and then explained her inspiration and interpretation, in answer to the proddings of a podcaster. Her insights about a moment in her day were profound.
     I was stirred into contemplation. My waking at eleven now has my thoughts wandering to and fro. Was this late waking to stimulate this moment of wondering? Was this a mirror to reflect on how, not just today, but in all of life, don’t we all, in our understanding, wisdom, relationships, and awareness, wake up after eleven?