Tears

Tears are no respecter of shoulders.  They will splash a dear, always-ready shoulder or soak an awkward, barely-known shoulder.  They don't care about the passing of healing time.  They rarely provide a courtesy notice.  They refuse to be controlled.  They insist on their own timing.  They're unreasonably emotional and thrive on the surprise effect.  

Embarrassed, a tear-shedder first wonders, Where did these come from?  What prompted such a scene?  What happened?  It's just another Sunday.  Confused, she will slip away after a few apologetic words to... recover.  Hopefully.   

But wonder away.  Ask until the end of time.  Tears are not to be understood.   

After the last one dribbles from the corner, the brimming pool recedes, a tear-shedder will need a drink of water, maybe a Tylenol and a nap.  But a mysterious Heaven-cleanse rinses her heart.  An inexplicable Holy Spirit-balm strengthens her.  She knows that God sees and bottles each tear.  His shoulder understands tears, and tears respect His shoulder. 

 

The God of all comfort keeps watch over your weeping.  He gathers up all your tears and puts them in His bottle.  Psalm 56:8