Thank You For The Tears

God, in every tear I cry, and every sob I take, in every deep, dark, throbbing ache that’s hidden in the cluttered closets of my inner soul, I thank you God for what I feel.

I thank you God that I can feel.

I thank you that while I am feeling all alone you are still in control.

I thank you God that somehow miraculously you are making beauty out of my life trodden ashes of pain and humanity, out of my shortsightedness and blurred vision of life.

I thank you God that you fix my bungling, stumbling, meandering human mistakes.

I feel overwhelmed by swelling restlessness, and gut-churning knots of reminiscing as they echo temptations, daring me to go back in time. This restlessness lures me to those sweet innocent moments of my childhood when I would chase the florescent blue butterflies and overdose on dense jungle oxygen. Those knots of reminiscing hauntingly call me back down memory’s corridors when I would inhale life’s reinvigorating crisp clear Andes mountain mornings. The blended aroma of fresh firewood coffee and the echoing song of the monotone cow in the valley below swell in my heart and I choke back my tears. Such memories!

This relentless restlessness beckons me, and I dance through yesteryears touching those dusty memories. I run to my lover’s first embrace of tenderness, to my newborn’s first cry for breath, to motherhood’s greatest moments of accomplishment.

I meander those sacred paths of first days at school, teachers’ meetings, school concerts. I embrace the snuggly warmth of tattered blankets under clear midnight skies and brilliant stars holding a child on each side of me. We whisper and giggle as we make plans to lasso the tiny sliver of a moon, count roaming satellites and wish on shooting stars.

I relive my personal battle scars and accomplishments.

A tear glistens on my sleeve as I remember the lingering smiles, the last embraces, the final farewells.

These longings echo in my heart fuel the unquenchable desires to run to the past. It’s not a flailing or cowardly wish to escape the present, but rather a soul-peircing reminder of the past, screaming at me not to miss the present and to blaze forward and embrace the future.

I must glance in the rearview mirror of life to learn from the past, to remember where I’ve been, and ensure I’m on course to where I am going. But it must only be a glance. I can’t drive in the rearview mirror, focusing on what’s behind me. If I do, I will end up in the ditch of life. I can learn from the past but I must not live in the past or I will experience an even greater loss.

I thank you God for memories. Yes, tear-filled, intensely emotional journals of life’s memories. I thank you God that I have those moments to embrace and cherish.

I thank you God in everything, even the painful goodness I live and breathe. Thank you God that splendor of deep joy in life’s pain is a testimony of hope. Oh the blissful Hope! Thank you for the Hope that flows through and from these tears.

Thank you for the tears.