MINIATURE MESSENGERS

Exerpted from No Wonder They Call Him Saviour - by Max Lucado.

Before we bid good-bye to those present at the cross, I have one more introduction to make. This introduction is very special.

There was one group in attendance that day [of the crucifixion] whose role was critical. They didn't speak much, but they were there. Few noticed them, but that's not surprising. Their very nature is so silent they are often overlooked. In fact, the gospel writers scarcely game them a reference. But we know they were there. They had to be. They had a job to do.

Yes, this representation did much more than witness hte divine drama; they expressed it. They captured it. They displayed the despair of Peter; they betrayed the guilt of Pilate and unveiled the anguish of Judas. They transmitted John's confusion and translated Mary's compassion.

Their prime role, however, was with that of the Messiah. With utter delicacy and tenderness, they offered relief to his pain and expression to his yearning.

Who am I describing? You may be surprised.

Tears.

Those tiny drops of humanity. Those round, wet balls of fluid that tumble from our eyes, creep down our cheeks and splash on the floor of our hearts. They were there thay day. They are always present at such times. They should be, that's their job. They are miniature messengers; on call twenty-four hours a day to substitute for crippled words. They drip, drop and pour from the corners of our souls, carrying with them the deepest emotions we possess. They tumble down our faces with announcements that range from the most blissful joy to darkest despair.

The principle is simple; when words are most empty, tears are most apt.

A tearstain on a letter says much more than the sum of all its words. A tear falling on a casket says what a spoken farewell never could. What summons a mother's compassion and concern more quickly than a tear on a child's cheek? What gives more support than a sympathetic tear on the face of a friend?

Words failed the day the Saviour was slain. They failed miserably. What words could have been uttered? What phrases could have possibly expressed the feelings of those involved?

That task, my friend, was left for the tears.

You have collected all my tears in your bottle.

You have recorded each one in your book.

~ Psalm 56:8 [NLT] ~

GRIEF AND MOURNING

I learned something new today: grief is not the same as mourning.

Grief is a sudden wave of sadness. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, you can be walking along, turn the corner, and run smack into it.

Mourning, on the other hand, is like a garment that your soul wears. It's understated but constantly there. And once in a while, you catch glimpses of it.

Sometimes, I wake up these days and feel blue for seemingly no reason. Since I'm just over a month away from moving from the city I've called "home" for my whole 27 years on earth so far, my counselor says my soul is in mourning. And those mornings when I wake up and feel blue, I catch a glimpse of my soul that's been mourning throughout the night.

My counselor also said that grief and mourning are actually invitations to life. I'm not completely sure what that means, but I know Jesus, who is Life, promised comfort for those who mourn.

You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
~Matthew 5:4 [MSG]~

MY FATHER'S KITCHEN

A recent image that has given me strength is a picture of a banquet table, laden with lots of dishes, platters and bowls. They're filled to overflowing, but not with food. In one vessel, there is "joy", in another, "peace". Another plate has a heap of "strength," another dish has "perspective" and so on.

God is the Dad who has prepared this lavish meal and has called me down to eat with a hearty "sik fan la!" (for those who don't know cantonese, that's like "dinnertime!") I'm free to come and take whatever I need whenever I feel "hungry." I can also come rummage through His kitchen at any time of the day or night. Or if I have friends over, I can feel free to feed them too. This image has been a wonderfully uplifting reminder to me that I have all the resources I need to cope with whatever I'm feeling or facing in the moment. His grace truly IS sufficient.

Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare.
~Isaiah 55:2~