“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the humble,
for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
for the kingdom of heaven is theirs.”
Matthew 5:3-10
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
If I could sum up what God has done in my life this past year, I’d probably use that verse to do so. Not that it’s the verse that has brought me the most peace or the verse that I have relied on to get through the darkest days. But it’s the verse that puts into perspective how God has worked in me. It’s the verse that makes me know God has been real this year.
My eye doctor said my eyes are dry, and I don’t produce enough tears. To which I laughed out loud and rolled my eyes because if she only knew.
This year I’ve cried more times than I could have ever imagined. I cried at my old home, and I’ve cried in my new home. I cried in the car. I cried at work. I even cried at Disney World. I’ve cried because of laundry rooms and Post It notes and peppercorns. I cried when my feelings were hurt, and I cried more when my heart continued to break.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I cry big cries but I also cry sneeze cries. The big cries are the ones with snotty boogers and not being able to catch my breath. But the sneeze cries are the ones that come out of nowhere and hit me hard and fast.
But regardless of what kind of cry or how long I cry or how many tears fill my eyes, I will be comforted.
Someone once told me- or maybe I read it in a book- that God stores all our tears in Heaven. Which means I’ve probably got Lake Michigan up there.
And what God’s doing with my Lake Michigan is not turning it around and dumping it back on me. He’s giving me hugs and holding my hand. He’s speaking to my heart and telling me it’s going to be ok. He’s pointing to the light at the end of the tunnel and encouraging me to just make it that far.
So now of course I’m crying as I write this.
Because if you had told me in February that one day those sad tears would turn into proud tears, I would not have believed you. If you would have told me that the brokenness would somehow turn into strength, I would have thought that was impossible. But through the big cries and the sneeze cries, God was comforting me.