"Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning." Psalm 30:5b

What happens when our weeping to stays awhile? To "tarry" means to stay awhile, to linger, or in more modern terms, to hang out. Do we really want our weeping to last like that?!

I think most of us would say no. But I think--I think--that at some point in our weeping, when it is selfish and turned inward, there occasionally comes the thought: "Oh, you poor thing! Look at how hard you worked! And yet the whole thing's a failure! See God--see how hard I'm weeping?! See how broken I am?!" And we feel sorry for ourselves. Or perhaps we cry and weep out of temper because we feel so helpless and out of control--everything is a swirling mass of uncertainty, a vortex with no beginning or end. And usually--it's all our fault.

"Help me, God!" we cry, "I don't know what to do!" Fear and danger enclose us. Someone we love is injured; ill. Or it is we who are ill; sick, weak; with no strength or hope. No medication will heal us, no technology has been invented that will thwart the disease. Who can rescue us from this fearful thing called Death?

Then there are times of overwhelming grief, thoughts dark and filled with a blackness and emptiness we cannot see through; there seems to be no future. And we weep because we don't know where to turn, for it is too scary to turn to God.

And sometimes we are simply at the end of our rope; trusting but too exhausted to open our eyes and see Jesus there at the foot of the bed. There seems to be nothing left. There is acquiescence and exhaustion and numbness. We are simply too tired to care. 

I've been functioning on far too few hours of sleep. I can barely function like a human being. Too much coffee, too much tea; I missed a favorite weekly activity because I did not feel safe to drive there and back. And while I received 7 hours of blessed sleep, I feel as though I could sleep for 7 more! I linger in my weeping, moaning and groaning over my predicament, selfishly thinking only of myself and all I've been through. And the more I linger on the hurts and sorrows and illnesses of my past, the more the dark clouds close in, the fog smothers all light and thought. I am in a cave where all thoughts and dreams are lost. I allow my exhaustion to determine my stumbling path; until I hit a boulder and down I fall. I feel very, very sorry for myself. I linger in my tears.

But today, with God's grace and mercy, I am kicking off that weeping which wants me to linger and feel sorry for myself. I have nothing more or less to cry about than the rest of the world! My burdens are considerably fewer than many others. I have no overwhelming grief or sorrow at the moment. No shadow of death or loss, no destruction or calamity has entered my life; other than stress, everything is good.

But sometimes it feels good to weep. Stress can build up in the human body, until it simply must come out. And tears of rage, disappointment, loss, guilt, despair--are as much a part of our humanity as our ability to love.

There is only one answer in this world for the blackest types of grief. There is only one answer for the tears that fall from hopelessness, or helplessness, or any and all of the range of emotions we feel.

Jesus is the answer. Only Jesus has the power to heal, to forgive, to bring second chances. Only Jesus can return hope to the heart, peace to the soul. Only Jesus can take away the deepest of our fears, show us the pettiness of tears of anger or rage, soothe our heartbreak, calm our calamities--from a dropped ice cream cone to the loss of a loved one. Only Jesus.

I remembered that today.

In my own darkness and depression and lack of hope, I remembered Jesus. I remembered what he can do for me, and better yet, I remembered what he HAD done for me. He has saved me and brought me from death to life. He has healed me of cancer. He has brought me love and joy and happiness. He has given me a funny little home that I love. He has given me words, beautiful words to share with the world.

And I realized that the dark had faded away, and the sky was alight with silver and gold and mauve and peach, and there was light--dazzling, beautiful, glorious sunlight--

Jesus is ALIVE!

A wise king in Ecclesiastes once said, there is a time for weeping, and a time to rejoice. I have been through the night. But now, it is morning, and the dark shadows melt away. The mockingbird sings in my sweet gum. The air is crisp and clean (for NJ!). The sky is blue, blue, blue!

I will not tarry in my grief.

And so my joy comes with the morning. Not happiness--oh, no! Happiness is temporary, like the blue of the sky. But joy! Oh, joy! It holds me even as the tears roll down my face and I struggle onward. 

Joy comes in the morning! 

Rest in God's grace and mercy today. Hope you can get out and enjoy the sunshine!