I Weep

Sometimes I weep. It used to be a source of shame for me until two words finally helped me conquer that self-condemnation.
Jesus Wept.
I weep because my best friend has to beat this cancer. There are a few things we’ve put on OUR Bucket List over the past twenty years that haven’t yet materialized. I am certain we are supposed to see Hillsong perform live in Australia before we’re too old to look cool at a Christian rock concert.
I weep because my husband has to get his Golden Globe. Or Oscar. Or whatever big industry award awaits him after he’s landed his dream role. Because the magnitude of the sacrifice determines the magnitude of the reward and I don’t know anyone else, personally, who has sacrificed so very much. We are still discussing whether or not he’ll do a back flip on stage.
I have explained to my son that the tears he sometimes sees are Happy Tears. I cannot believe for miraculous healing with a sorrowful heart and I cannot believe for miraculous breakthroughs with a bitter soul.
So sometimes I weep but after all these years I have finally found the Happy in those tears.