Vol 12, Num 23 :: 2013.12.13 — 2013.12.26
A friend once
had a name for me —
“Little Water Buckets,”
my life watered
with tears falling
at the most
inconvenient times.
Another friend said
I was blessed
to be a pretty crier —
good fortune for one
who wept often.
I could not understand
what good could come
from beautiful weeping.
My tears did not hold
beauty for me —
I saw them as my shame.
I could not keep them from falling
nor keep my heart from feeling
EVERYTHING.
This tender heart
pierced through with pain
embarrassed me.
I could not contain
its hurt,
so it spilled out
in barely controlled
torrents.
I remember my prayer
to Jesus,
wiping my tears with
nail-pierced Hands.
“There are too many!”
I exclaimed.
“There are never too many
for Me to wipe away,”
He explained.
I did not like His answer
because He didn’t stop
the piercing and
my brokenness remained.
I have since learned
to honor the heart
He gave me.
To feel deeply is not shame,
but something else entirely:
It is gift —
enabling me
to step into a room
and to know
what is felt within.
This exquisite pain
has pierced me through
so that feeling flows
freely —
First it is a sharing,
and then it becomes bearing,
as I bring what others feel
to the Throne of Grace.
Jesus meets me there,
anointing each hurt
with Tender Love.
My Sweet Jesus
illuminated the
Truth I could not see —
Every pain, every tear,
every piercing trouble,
prepared my heart to be
something beautiful,
a sacred chamber
that He steeps in Love
and pours out with
the healing balm of
Comfort.
To be a filigreed beauty
in His courts
is not a bad thing.
For out of the gore
of piercing pain,
He has arranged
GLORY
to shine forth
in ways I never
imagined.
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