“I’m just wondering, have you thought about your tears as tiny messengers giving you hints to the way God made you to bear His image?”
~ Shelly Miller @ Redemption’s Beauty, in her post of February 18, 2013, Listen to Your Tears
I’ve been simmering this post-yet-to-be in thought and heart over a week now. Wanting to somehow bring you into the feeling behind the words, unsure how to do that. Later, reading Shelly’s words and her question posed above, I heard the strings of a sacred echo, like music lightplay on my thoughts. Tears, as tiny messengers…
I’m thinking of those that come in moments of profound awe. Inexplicably washing you aware. Best described by two words that don’t seem to go together… warm and shiver…making you know more by heart than thought, He is present.
In poignant beauty. A word of testimony. A flash of insight or confirming word.
Seemingly out of the blue, but born of His Spirit ever moving and breathing over us. Take a look at this. Do you hear that? Oh… that you would!
On or around Ash Wednesday last week, I felt as though His arms encircled me in two such simple…yet… Lenten moments…
An ordinary evening, I’d been re-watching a romantic comedy I came across a year or so ago, Beau Jest. The title spelling here is a play on words, because the theme revolves around a young Jewish woman who hires a man to play her Jewish boyfriend to her parents – thinking they would not approve anyone outside their faith.
Throw in Sabbath dinner, an actor who is not Jewish after all, wonderfully fun ethnic family humor, similar to “My Big Fat Greek Wedding –”
Then…Like a tender Hebraic strain entwined with a La Chaim Fiddler toast, thread a few exquisite moments quite suddenly…yet naturally and evocatively…to circle the Sabbath and Seder prayers around the table – around the viewer’s heart — turning laughter poignant.
And out of that comes…that feeling.
In the way a camera brushstrokes out distractions to reveal the view as if from behind one person’s eyes, you can still hear and see all that is going on — but somewhere in the background a chord signals, whispers above cacophony, Listen.
Tears welled, throat lump rose, as I watched the character of the actor beau moved by the words he was assigned to read over their dinner prayers… Just as they did the first time I saw that scene, and again a few minutes ago as I rewound tape to refresh my words here. For just as the director means the audience to see how these timeless truths are soaking in, subtly changing this character… I can sense the Father speaking them to us all…
“In every generation, let each man look on himself as if he came forth out of Egypt,” the beau is reading from the book of remembrance prayer… “It is because of that which the Lord did for me when I came forth out of Egypt… Therefore, we are bound to thank, praise…laud, glorify…exalt, honor…bless, extol and adore Him who performed all these miracles for our fathers, and for us. He has brought us from slavery to freedom, from sorrow to joy, from mourning to holiday, from darkness to great light, from bondage to redemption. Let us therefore recite before Him a new song – Halleluia!”
Words of beauty so anointed they reach in and grab the listener whenever spoken…
And I think how for over thirty years it’s been drummed in… don’t look to feelings. Sometimes God moves despite or without feelings. I get that. They aren’t always reliable.
Still… how God gifts us with tears of this kind! Warms our hearts with His. Makes us sit up and notice His arms coming around us. I don’t look for those feelings… they tiptoe in as unexpected messengers… tenderly reminding…
Look to the promise
He is bringing us out of the “egypts” in our lives
Remember miracles gone before and usher in those on the way with praise
See the Lamb foretold has come! Halleluia!
I love the scripture promise that reveals He stores all our tears in a bottle. And today, I wonder… does that include tears of awe? Maybe there’s a second one…just to hold the wonder of that joy, like fireflies in a jar.
Have you held a moment like that in tears recently?
…To Be Continued…
© Pam Depoyan
Sharing with: Thought Provoking Thursday
Imperfect Prose at Emily Wierenga’s place,