We are not alone in our tears.
In the lonely midnight hour it seems we suffer in silence.
But be assured and find great comfort as we are not alone in our tears.
Jesus weeps with us. He himself wept, being moved with compassion as Martha and Mary grieved the loss of their brother. Jesus shared their grief in tears.
Jesus draws near to the broken hearted.
In your tears, Jesus will draw near to you.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18 NIV
When Jesus saw her (Mary) weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. Where have you laid him? He asked. “Come and see Lord,” they replied.
Jesus wept. John 11 32-35 NIV
I never understood earth shattering loss until my older sister Belinda left this earth for heaven. So many years ago, yet seems like yesterday. She left us at the young age of 44 after being sick her whole life, yet because of her strong will to live and belief in God for a miracle, we had her years beyond what we imagined. She was the first of our six siblings to go.
A generous friend my sister was while growing up, spending her allowance on me for no other reason than she loved me. We shared a sweet friendship that followed into our adult lives.
I loved my sister’s unexpected long distance calls and hated when our short conversations were over. Belinda was always in a hurry yet I appreciated her small offerings of time. What I wouldn’t give for a mini talk with my sister, enjoying her laugher on the other end of the telephone.
Goodbyes are terribly painful. Goodbyes open the floodgates of our tears. You can’t remind the clock. Wishing is a waste of time. Life moves forward from the day death closes a door. It’s not fair. The answer to our “whys” will never satisfy. Loss is a bitter pill to swallow.
Though there is rest in our suffering and loss.
There is comfort in Jesus noticing our weeping.
In our grief He is moved with compassion and weeps with us.
There is sweet hope for our tomorrow as..
Weeping may endure for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Psalm 30:5 NIV
Joy is not forgetting your loss.
Joy is not pretending your loss ever happened.
“Joy comes in the morning” because if allowed, Jesus is the salve that heals all wounds. Jesus binds the broken and fills the void your loved one left behind with a new song in your heart.
Those who sow in tears will reap in joyful singing.
Psalm 126:5 NIV
All those tears in the night have been accounted for.
Your tears are collected in His bottle, and…
Joy comes in the morning.
…Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not recorded in your book?
Psalm 56:8 NIV
So many years ago, yet seems like yesterday. The deep pain of losing a sister I never expected to endure. In a former column of mine The Milestones of First Anniversary’s
I wrote:
At her graveside service as Heaven comforted us with a sunny day and serenading birds, its own recipe of chicken soup for the sick at heart. I couldn’t have comprehended that first year without her, as we fought to get through our first week.
Those first few weeks after our tearful good-by when the numbing of the shock had worn off, waves of sorrow crashed over me through unexpected reminders of my sister in resemblances of her children, in each of us remaining siblings and even complete strangers. I barely held it together hearing the mention of her name.
Reading my sister’s obituary with her picture posted seemed so surreal. I struggled to be a pillar of strength for her children embracing the difficult realization their mother was gone.
In the passing of years, you do find it to be true that “time does heal all wounds.”
You miss your loved one in ways mere words can’t convey.
But time in God is good.
He is patient.
God doesn’t rip off the Band-Aid protecting your pain.
He handles you gently and softly, and never in a hurry.
You never cry alone.
Jesus weeps His own tears with you.
In the surrendering of your broken heart there is joy in the morning.
God even breathes his joy in the midst of our good-byes.
I wrote about it in my former column just mentioned.
Though sad was our sister’s “home going party”, before us, a little butterfly circled, showing off as if to tell us a secret. Flittering free as a child, its interpretative dance reminding us my sister was free from the body that held her hostage. Cry no more she’s free.
Since then, I’ve attended a few dance recitals held outside my kitchen window. A gift from Heaven who enjoys her now, I draw joy again from the well of my soul, prepared to live through the “seconds”. There’s even peace to write my own lyrics to the song of this butterfly’s dance.
It’s just a little butterfly,
Outside that I can see.
Performing solo with new wings,
A special dance for me.
No music plays that I can hear,
A song there has to be.
A ballerina on her stage,
The audience, just me.
This butterfly is free to fly,
Wherever it may go.
But chose outside my window pane,
That I would somehow know.
Each dance this butterfly performs,
Within my simple view.
To celebrate its freedom wings,
Each time I think of you.
I still miss my sister after all these years. Since my sisters death, our youngest sister went home to be with Jesus, leaving another empty chair at the dinner table. So much to conceive, but Jesus is enough to get us to the other side of pain. Good-by celebrates the handprints our loved one leaves behind.
No thief can ever rob you of their memory.
It’s ok to weep.
Jesus did.
Remember that heaven is our eternal home; we are only passing through in this life.
We’re just dropping in to say hello this side of heaven.
One day we’ll all meet Jesus and our loved ones again and..
As the song is gloriously written…
What a day of rejoicing that will be.
