a time to cry . . .

The birds at the feeders are not active today. Oh, a few stragglers have come and gone, having had breakfast and lunch. They seem less excited for food.  Perhaps the grey colored day has them uneasy,  or the pelting rain discourages them from venturing far from their dryer cozy niches.  Could be, they are aware of  changes coming in temperature this evening.

Flooding of creeks and lakes continues here in middle Tennessee. More snow  is expected in winter weary New England; ice, sleet and snow predicted here  in Tennessee tonight. It is  not a time to “tip-toe through the tulips” or to waltz in a slow romantic drizzle and to pretend that life is wonderful.

A younger sister of mine is in ICU in New Mexico; my brother lost his semi-trailer truck in an accident this week. Tom is experiencing severe back pain, searching in vain for  a remedy for minimal relief, and I am as lethargic as the birds. I have no desire to smell a single rose today and even less energy to climb any mountains. There are no answers for a loss in the family–only tears.

Let’s be honest–there are times when we want to say with the Psalmist,  “consider my sighing, I am faint (6), deliver me , why do you hide yourself, my God (10)  how long, O lord will you forget me forever (11)  you know the anguish of my soul (31)”–  the cries from the psalmist go on and on.  “I just don’t feel you are near, Where are you, God? Can you find me? Can I find You?”  There are 67 Psalms known as psalms of lament.

“The lament psalms are cries of despair, anger, protest and doubt. They feature regularly in the psalms, and are not something the biblical writers or God himself were ashamed to put into Holy Scripture. They may be an embarrassment to some Christians, but they are a normal part of Israel’s praise and worship – which is what the psalms were all about.”  (Bill Muehlenberg)

It would be lovely to hear only the singing of the birds and the whispers of butterfly wings–but that is not reality on the journey.  This minute I hear hard, tearful rain on the  roof.  Large rain drops crying on the window pane near my desk, reminding me of tears. Mine– mingled with others who are crying today.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book.”  Psalm 56:8 NLT

Can you imagine a bottle of tears with your name on it?  I wonder how big my bottle may be.  What a beautiful reminder–that the awesome Creator of this world  holds my tears–even when no one else sees me crying or knows that I cry.  He records each heartache, every disappointment and sorrow– all my losses in a book.

How special we are to be loved by a God who has given us the privilege to cry but then keeps those tears while holding us near His heart. And remembering each sorrow . . .

Tearfully,

 

 

 

 

About oct17

The little girl in me loves bird watching, butterflies, sunrises, sunsets, walks in the rain; the adult I am enjoys the same. I sense God's awesomeness in all of life--what wonder there is in slicing a leek or cutting open a pomegranate. I have many favorite things--a formation of Canadian geese flying overhead, the giggles of my grand daughters, the first ripe watermelon in summer, snowflakes on my face--these gifts from my heavenly Father delight me continually.
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2 Responses to a time to cry . . .

  1. babyglende says:

    Thank you for the reminder and encouragement. Yesterday, my grandma and my husband’s grandma passed away! He cares for us when we are sad and sorrowful. glad we can hope in Him in these times! Miss you!

  2. oct17 says:

    Oh, Wury–both grandmas passed on the same day? I know that must be difficult–but yes, indeed, he knows and cares. I have a sign in my kitchen–“Jesus knows me, this I love” –I love that.
    And I miss you much–can’t believe that you have two little ones now. You have a precious family–wish we could share hearts.

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