When i got pregnant with Cairo, i couldn't go to church without sobbing through the entire service.
It was embarrassing & humbling.
i wondered if the condition was permanent & i decided that if in a broken state of love was where my Father wanted me, then that's where i would be - & i started to remember to bring kleenex.
After she was a couple of months old, we moved, attended a different church & maybe it was the distraction of my little one & the change in scenery, but i managed to keep composed for the services - for a season.
Until a different season hit - one of grief - & i found that every time i met with my Father - i cried. It wasn't necessarily in church - but mostly at my piano bench. Neil bought me a big old upright piano the summer we got married. i reupholstered the bench with (did you guess?) butterfly fabric - & though the timbre of the music i played was musty & rumbly - like from an ancient church instrument - i loved my piano & played constantly.
Sometimes i didn't want to cry. So i avoided meeting with my Father. His Word, my worship, Communion with the One who loves me most - made me weep. & sometimes - it exhausted me.
i didn't use to be one who cried. Passionate, yes. Crying, no... but i was changing.
& so it has gone over the past decade and more - seasons of joy, sorrow, confusion, love, gratitude, worship... that brought the tears.
i guess it eventually broke me, 'cause they come so freely and easily now. i've become used to weeping when i sing of God's Goodness. In my 30's i know that my tears are an offering of Praise to the One who 'delivers me from death & my feet from stumbling'. They're no longer an embarrassment - they're an outward sign of my devotion to my King...
& i'm ok with that.
8You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.