Blurry
I see my black and white saddle shoes and my blue plaid pleated uniform through blurry eyes. What makes a little girl in Catholic school cry on the playground? Loneliness, cruel words, jealousy? I’m not sure what caused my tears that day, but they were stinging my eyes as I looked down at my feet. But He was there, and even today knows exactly why I was crying.
I see the dust cloud in my rear view mirror and hear my own screams, as if I am outside my body watching it all. I shreak into the phone, “I need help! My grandparents were in an accident. Help us!” I see the car on the interstate all the windows blown out, the roof smashed in, their clothes blowing across the highway. Through blurry eyes I see my grandma still in the car. “We have to pray!” I wail through the window. I am in shock. I don’t know where my grandpa is and if he is alive. I don’t even know where we are, somewhere in West Virginia. I don’t know anything. But He did. He had already dispatched His angels for me. And He never left my side.
I see my dining room chandelier through my wet fingers. I am curled up in the corner, on the floor. My whole life as I know it has been erased by someone who was supposed to love me. I cry out to Him. I beg Him. I don’t understand why. I have no future. I have no hope. But He knew exactly what He was doing. He was there with me on the floor. I felt Him say, “Do you trust me?” I wanted to, but the tears kept coming.
I see the doctor at the foot of the bed yell, “You have to push!” I look next to me, Dustin’s face blurred by my tears. “I can’t do it!” I sob. What seems like minutes later, I am holding our baby boy, who is already with Jesus. How could this happen? I’m know it’s my fault. No one can help. I am inconsolable, full of guilt. Through tears I search the stones to find our baby’s resting place. And as I searched, He met me there. But He didn’t come empty handed. He brought a rainbow to remind me of His promises. He had the comfort I needed. He understood my pain.
I see the blurry keyboard. I hear my fingers click away at the keys. So many tears brought me here. He knows every one. He planned them. He knew I was going to need those times to know His care and love for me now. He sent me through the fire, so He could prove He was in it with me. And so here I am, on another painful journey. I’m learning that’s what life is. But this time it’s different. It still hurts. And I’ve probably cried more tears over this one than all the others combined. Sometimes I don’t think the tears will ever stop coming. But this time it’s different, because I already know He is here. I know He will not leave me. I know He has a plan. I know He loves me. And He is the only one who has been there for all the other tears. He promises they are so precious, He saves them. And through His tear-filled, blurry eyes He looks at me. He never tires of listening to me. Comforting me is never a burden.
My tenderhearted Father, my Comforter, how I love you because you love me so well. How I long to cry different tears, ones of joy, when I see you face to face. When I can look into Your eyes and say, “Thank You…even for the tears.”
And then He will wipe them all away once and for all.