It was one of those weepy mornings where the slightest bump will cause a tear to spill out. Blasted hormones. Worse yet, it was Sunday and worship tends to bring out my emotional side without any help from nature. Here we go, God, I thought and walked into church.
I didn't start out too good. I looked around the room and for every person I saw, I could name an accompanying sorrow. Despite my desire to push through, I couldn't shake my sadness for what people must endure. I couldn't help but think about the disagreements, misunderstandings and hurt feelings that come with being human. We cause each other pain. It's not on purpose most of the time, but it happens. And it will happen. While singing worship songs, I wished I could get over how life inevitably brings grief. So I sang. I shut my eyes and sang, desperately trying to praise Him in all things.
Sing with me. I thought of all the people in the room who were suffering. Sing with me how great is our God. I thought of those who'd been hurt, some I hurt myself. Forgive me. Can we unite in this one thing? Can we sing together how great is our God? A few tears escaped and I longed for relationships to be easier. Sing with me. Please. Sing with me.
"How great is our God.
Sing with me how great is our God
that all will see how great, how great is our God."
Maybe hormones played a role in what happened next (the Lord knows they were doing a number on me), but I think it was more than that. The Holy Spirit had been hovering all morning.
The song ended and I stood there, not knowing what to do with everything swirling inside me. Trying to find a way out of my emotional pit, I made a beeline to a grieving woman. The special music had been a song sung at her grandson's funeral only a few weeks before. It seemed logical that focusing on someone else could get me out of my funk. Without saying a word, I tapped her on the shoulder and gave her a hug. As I expected, she started to cry, but what I never saw coming was my own response. I absolutely could not hold back the dam and buried my face in her shoulder to hide it. I didn't know her grandson. I'd never even met the kid, but the longer we embraced, the stronger the weeping from both of us. Our bodies trembled in muffled sobbing and I wondered why this was affecting me so much. When I tried to collect myself and pull away, she brought me close again and held me there as if to say, "It's okay, honey. Let it all out." And another wave let loose.
The Holy Spirit whispered, "Let it go, babe. It's okay to feel sad about your loss. You've lost loved ones through death, relationships through life, and Paradise itself, where being human became difficult. Don't wish away your emotions. Cherish them. Let them lead you to Me."
Truly, the Lord is good to all; He has compassion on all He has made.
Even, or perhaps especially, a hormonal mess of a woman.
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