Why is it that when there is so much good all around me, I still come home some nights and cry? I mean, my life is full. Yes, it's full of responsibilities and rehearsals and lesson plans and papers to grade (I give like one test a year... how do core teachers do it?!) and meetings, but it's also full of loud laughter with friends, and black lights and white gloves and more little hugs than I can count and cries of "Ms. Fwakes!" and little voices singing and Tiny Companion jumping off the couch to greet me when I walk in the door. So why, then, do I sometimes feel empty? Why does my heart often feel so heavy? Why is finding joy and peace such a constant battle?
Why am I surprised?
At what point did anyone say that all this fullness would mean deepest satisfaction? At what point did anyone say that walking in the Spirit was a walk in the park and not an uphill trek with a cross strapped to my back? When did anyone say that all the good things would keep my heart from longing for the best things that are yet to come? When did anyone say this is all there is? When did anyone say it wouldn't be a battle?
Don't be surprised. When you make your life all about seeing an eternal kingdom brought down to earth through your frail and weak body, it's going to be hard. You're going to feel small. When you say yes to a role in a redemption story that will not be completed this side of heaven, you're going to ache. You're going to feel the groaning. When there is an enemy out there who knows he's been defeated but still has power, he's going to attack with a pitiful kind of vengeance and it will sting. You're going to have to suit up in that armor. And armor? It's heavy. Yeah. His burden, it's light, just like He promised. But there is a weight to armor and a weight to glory. There is a heaviness to the holy.
And the tears, they lighten the load, because they remind you of a God that cares enough to catch every drop in a bottle and who is powerful enough to turn water to wine. So don't be surprised when you are bending under the weight. He is the lifter of your head. Go on, Beloved. It's okay to cry.