Today I saw a downpour. The rain was so heavy that I could see the huge drops as they fell and then bounced off a parking lot. A person would have been drenched in seconds. As I watched the weighted water plummet to the earth, I thought of tears, not the kind of tears that glisten in the eye or soundlessly trickle down the cheek; but the kind that pour out with a great noise. Noisy tears cleanse the soul and heal the spirit.
But loud crying seems to be unacceptable in today’s American culture. Of course, babies and small children are allowed to cry noisily, but past the age of . . . oh say, eight or nine years, crying loudly is banned, even shamed. Sad, isn’t it? Surely, tears have some other purpose than to lubricate or to carry dust from off the eyeball.
I like to think of tears as removing toxins from the soul. They bear the stuff that would poison the soul and sicken it. They nurture healing and health. And like the rain that wets the earth, tears wet the soul, make it tillable, and fruitful. Hearty wailing wells up from a deep source that will never run dry for those willing to allow its overflow.
“Those who go out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, carrying their sheaves.” Psalm 126:6
Day six of the Thirty Days of Seeing