For the past couple days, I have felt on the verge of tears far too often. Everything from animated movies to glimpses of a river to C.S. Lewis quotes have pushed me to the edge, where my cheeks prickle and my nose strings and water begins to press against my eyes. This is my soul telling me I haven’t had a good cry in a while, which most likely means that my tears will burst out at the most awkward moment possible.
I always get teary-eyed at the ending of Toy Story 3, but should I really be biting my lip when watching Tangled? Should an observation about the nature of melancholy make a sob press against my whole head? Should someone saying “Hi” to me at church form a lump in my throat so big I can only choke out words like a crybaby?
Apparently, I will cry, no matter what should or shouldn’t happen. My dad is sick, possibly with cancer, and I don’t know when he’ll be well, and I’m a thousand miles away from him. No matter what I do, no matter how I console myself, this irrefutable fact keeps on slamming against my forehead. When it doesn’t slam, it seeps, and curls its way around my brain and my head and forces out the tears when they don’t belong.
The fact (not the Person) that encourages me the most in all of this is that the tears don’t merely belong in the sadness. On Friday, Beki gave me a tour of the farm in her four-wheeler, and as we skirted the edge of a creek, I looked at the vibrant grass growing along the bubbling water, with trees overhanging, tossing in a light breeze. And I cried. It was too exquisite, too intimately overwhelming, too chock-full of beauty on a Midwest scale. If no one had been watching, I would have wept for an hour.
Tonight, I met a couple at church who were friendly— the husband was outgoing, the wife was shy, and both were willing to drive me home and pray for me in the driveway before dropping me off. They prayed, I cried a little, and it was okay. Still, had I been at my home church, I would have sobbed.
I’m homesick tonight, but I’m incredibly excited about the next segment of my journey. I’m homesick tonight, but I profess the goodness of my God. I’m homesick tonight but, in spite of every tear that I release and I hold back, I am at peace.
~Lisa Shafter
Money spent today: $0
Leeway so far: $93.33
Hang in there Lisa! You are strong!!
ReplyDeleteAh, you have a nice blend of melancholy woven into the fabric of things right now. I wouldn't worry too much about the cancer thing. The decay of the body isn't near as scary as the decay of the soul. That's the battle Lisa. This old hobbit is in the tunnel trying to decide if I can face the dragon or I will go back the way I came to be with the dwarves. And it's okay to cry. : )
ReplyDelete