SO I dissappeared. I’ve spent the last 2 and a half months sorting through a lot of things that I needed to not write about publicly. In addition, I’ve also been going through the typical end of the school year transitions from school back to home and finishing my Junior year of college. Its been an interesting few months of growth and change, but I’m ready to get back to writing on here. So here goes:
Lately I’ve found myself weeping. A lot.
Now, part of this is due to the fact that I’ve lost a LOT of sleep lately and I’m in some major transitions of life. I’m home for the whole summer for the first time since the end of my freshman year. I’m awaiting the arrival of my sister and I haven’t seen her since September of last year. I’m settling into a new season of life with new goals and new life direction. I’m entering a (hopefully) healthier season of life. All of that to say
I’ve been weeping.
In the last year and a half I have faced grief and heartache and loss. I’ve had seasons of healing and seasons of new pain. I’ve been through the terrible side of the emotional wheel of fortune, and I’ve hit the “bankrupt” tile a few times. I have always been a crier, but its always been for me. I was crying for myself and my situation. For my life, my loss, my grief. Most of those bottled tears were shed for my own life and my own situation.
Lately, I’ve been crying for other people. Crying for that mother that just lost her daughter and may also lose her son. Crying for the man that lost his job. For that child that has to understand grief at the age of 6 because she watched someone wither and decay because of cancer. Crying for the mother that has to tell her child that his dad is never coming home. I’ve cried for my family members that don’t know what to do next. These are the stories that I’ve heard in the last two weeks. These are the people I weep for.
Recently, I’ve entered a new setting in my life. This place is new to me and I’m getting to know the people there and it has been a beautiful experience. However, this experience has also brought a heavy burden with it. You see, getting to know these people means hearing their stories. It means finding out the weight they carry around this earth. I do so well through the whole experience, but every time I make it to my car and I burst into tears. I feel the weight of what they are going through and every time my heart breaks in response. The dam that holds back my tears breaks as I weep for those I know.
“Sometimes I don’t understand why God gave me such a big heart for people, but He didn’t give me the skills to match that, too.” A truer sentence couldn’t have been spoken to me. My family member described exactly how I was feeling. I hear these stories and they become a piece of what shapes who I am, and yet I can offer them nothing in return to make their story better. Nothing but a piece of my own story as well. I can do nothing for them, but weep. I can offer them no other source of comfort aside from what the Lord allows me to give.
But maybe that’s more than enough. The Lord didn’t give me a big heart so I could solve problems. He would have given me a big brain and a big set of strategic skills. He gave me a big, compassionate, bleeding heart. A heart to feel with and a heart that allows me to express empathy with those around me. He also gave me the ability to pour out my requests to Him. To weep and wail. When words fail me- the Lord understands the prayers held in the tears that stream down my face. When I feel the weight of others and when I feel the absence of joy and hope then I can give him a prayer made of tears.
When words fail me then tears abound. There are a million prayers within a single tear. Praises and requests and tenderheartedness. So while words fail me and as life transitions:
I’ll be the one weeping.