Mercy Tears

I have a propensity to cry a lot.

Sometimes, this propensity to tears feels inconvenient and disproportionate to the moment. Like when it happens during commercials, or when I'm walking through the grocery store and see an elderly gentleman carefully putting that perfectly picked orange into his basket, and I remember Pixar's Up movie and GOSH.

Other times, it feels more appropriate. When I hear a dramatic string melody, or if a particular phrase or sentence in a book moves me. When my husband speaks kindness to me in a vulnerable moment, or when I pull away from my parents driveway on my way back home to Nashville.

And then, there are those times when the falling of tears feels vital...

When I'm sharing something hard and jagged, releasing a burden I was never meant to carry alone. When I'm allowing myself to grieve someone who's gone. When the months are passing much too quickly, and my heart can't reconcile the eternity written upon it and the way my daughter seems to be growing so fast.

Those times, I almost could start believing that tears were a good thing... I could almost begin to view them as a mercy, and my propensity towards them something to be grateful for.

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There are battles waged in the depths, which no visible circumstances may seem to warrant - such is often the Christian life. (We do not struggle against flesh or blood, after all).

As the arrows fly, as the gun shots fire, as the clash of sword against shield resonates into the ground we stand upon, sometimes tears are an incredibly sweet release.

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As I look back upon my life, I recognize that there has always been some amount of insecurity tied to this propensity of mine, to tears. There have been times when I've seen it as a major flaw in my personality, and I've experienced seasons that all but assured me that my (supposed) inability to cope was the main reason I felt alone. But the more I've grown in years and in faith, the more I've been able to discern the truth from the lies, and experiences have helped me continue to distinguish the lies that keep those particular insecurities alive.

Here are some things I've personally learned (and am still learning) about tears...

They repair moments, just as often as - if not even more than - they shatter them.

Their approach is not something I need to fear. When I feel that familiar pressure behind my eyes, that warmth spread up my neck, that closing of my throat... it's a clear sign that here is an opportunity to be honest. It's a cue to immediately start praying that the Holy Spirit would be with me, or help me speak what is on my heart in a way that is true, right, and good.

Tears often reveal things that shouldn't remain hidden, and they release things that shouldn't be held onto.

And where I have been planted, they have helped to water and grow me.

The Lord has used tears to teach me empathy. He's used them to teach me humility, and honesty. He's used them to teach me surrender, dependence, and release. As so many other things in life that we could view as merely an inconvenience, a flaw, or even a by-product of sin or pain - God intends them for something entirely different.

When I lay aside my insecurities, and trust Christ and the daily sanctification the Holy Spirit is striving to do inside my heart and mind, I find that tears (and even a propensity towards them) often behave more like a mercy than a flaw.

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Can you relate? What have your experiences been? I'd love to hear from you.