Crying isn't always a bad thing

Ok, so here I am taking the plunge.  I’ve decided to start my own blog.  As a child, I was in GT creative writing classes.  Go me!  I thought that maybe it had to do with having a bigger imagination as a child or perhaps that my imaginary world was more appealing than my reality.  In many ways, writing has always been an escape.  I think that for me writing is my art, subjective, vulnerable and a bit sporadic but in every way expressive.  I’ve always dreamt of writing books for inspiration, children’s series (in which I already have a few short stories).  I figured the only way for me to grow in this area is to subject it to others, and to God.  Yes, I believe in God most days.  I have tried to find fulfillment in many other things but they have all left me longing for more, something deeper.   So with the nudge from my BBFF and my husband, I am walking down this path.

            Last night, I sat with my husband on our living room (uncomfortable) couch and cried.  Yes, literally cried.  This doesn’t sound unusual, a woman, crying.  Except it sort of is unusual for me, it’s true, something strange happened when God created me and my husband.  Zach is more of the sensitive one whereas I’d like to think I’m the more sensible one.  I think we both defy the gender stereotypes when it comes to crying or being sentimental.  In fact one year around our anniversary time, Zach called me saying, “Guess what today is?”  I thought ‘oh no, it’s not our anniversary is it?’  Had I truly forgotten the importance of the day?  Well it ended up being the first day we met or kissed or something.  I still have trouble remembering the significance in that particular day. 

I grew up in house full of boys, being the only girl, perhaps I picked up a few habits from them like my crying intolerance. I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate when other’s cry, because I truly believe that crying is part of God’s healing process.  I am simply saying that somewhere along the line I’ve forgotten the importance of crying.  I am not talking about when you stub your toe and accidentally let out a few loud lewd words and alligator tears…followed by asking for forgiveness of course! J 

The type of crying that I’m talking about is the type of emotion that comes after a complete loss of words.  The type of crying that is found in a place of hopelessness and loss.  I’ve been in this place a few times before.  And every time I find myself there again, I am at a loss for words.  It’s like I am suddenly that lost little girl again longing for an escape.  I desperately want to have it all together and be eloquent in my approach to God but somehow I feel so inadequate. I feel as though, I don’t want to bother him with my petty little issues because he’s had a long, hard day at work.   I think that my perception of God stems from my perception of men. 

This has been a unique summer filled with its fair share of personal breakthroughs and personal heartbreaks. It seems that these two often complement one another in an oddly unique way.  I’ve had personal breakthrough, a redefined purpose and a renewed faith in God.  It has not come cheap.  I’ve always heard old time preachers say that salvation is free but serving the Lord costs you everything you’ve got.  I agree. When you invite God to be an integral part of your life, he really does move in and take residence.  Like newlyweds you sort through one another’s junk to establish what should be kept, except God doesn’t have junk.  It becomes difficult when you realize that you are the one who has do the “changing.”  So there you are in that desolate place between your pride and your freedom.  The place where you need to be but don’t want to be. 

This is the place I found myself last night, on our uncomfy couch tucked away into my husband’s arms, crying as the song Redeemed by Big Daddy Weave (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VzGAYNKDyIU) repeated over and over on our playlist.  I cried about the things I don’t understand.  I cried about the things that I figured would happen by now but haven’t.  I cried about the discomfort of the unknown.  I could not hold back the tears in this vulnerable place I found myself in, so I just cried.  After drenching my husband’s t-shirt with tears, I found the strength to get up off the uncomfy couch and move on.   The verse that rang in my ears was, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly (Matthew 11:27-29, The Message).” 

Works Cited

The Message. (1993-1996, 2000-2002). Matthew 11: 27-29;passage lookup. Retrieved August 13, 2012, from Biblegateway.com: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+11:27-29&version=MSG

Weave, B. D. (Composer). (2012). Redeemed. [Big Daddy Weeve, Performer]

(The Message, 1993-1996, 2000-2002)

(Weave, 2012)