Have you ever thought about how we enter this world . . .
with a cry?
Do those tears count?
Those very tears that cause others in the room to cry out in thankfulness, in relief, in joy . .. .
Are they our very first tears in our very own God-bottle of tears?
through the sleepless nights,
And what about our growing up tears?
The ones we’ve cried when we’ve been left with a new babysitter?
Or the ones that spring to our eyes when we scrape our knees or drip a tiny drop of blood?
Have you thought about the tears that you’ve cried that seem unwarranted? The ones that could be easily fixed?
What about the tears you’ve cried over things that don’t break the heart of God? Do those make the cut?
As we get older, we control our tears a little more, don’t we?
Keep them in check.
Angrily hide them when we’re embarrassed of what brings them to our eyes.
We save them for “what really counts”.
But if the promise is true . . . .
every. single. one. is precious to the One who records them.
And not one tear of ours falls without notice. And the One Who Notices is never impatient or angry with our tears. He simply collects them and loves us.
Just something I’m thinking about today. (For me, as I cry. And for me, as I listen to the many tears that fall from the rascals that I’m Mama to.)
P.S. Bonus points if you can name the cry-er in each picture. Grandmas are not eligible.