Reflections based on Psalm 56:8 (NLT):

You keep track of all my sorrows. 
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

I know that I haven’t been posting as regularly recently and I do apologise for that. I have needed a bit of space, which is hard to come by with the kids on school holiday. My weekly devotionals are normally based on Bible study notes that have already been published – this series has gone way beyond that, but I have felt it important to stay with the subject matter.

The time I spent sorting through mum’s things was a time of sadness but also laughter. We were able to reminisce as we sorted, and I was so glad that happened. But it was also a time characterised by a lack of time to process what was going on. I had half an hour one morning when I sat and read through some of the cards and letters mum and I had sent to one another, which I found with her Bibles, and had a little cry but, apart from that, there wasn’t much breathing space.

As a result, I have found myself crying at quite random events since I came home. I’m sure the lack of sleep during the recent heatwave hasn’t helped, but minor difficulties have left me in floods of tears. I’ve also been so much more aware of the fragility of our humanity, as well as my desperate desire to see my dad come to know his maker and our children to know God more deeply and intimately. Sometimes the pain of those desires is overwhelming.

One moment, when I was getting more and more frustrated at not being able to find something in our currently rather messy home, and ended up in tears (yet again), two members of our household exclaimed: “You don’t need to cry about it!”

I came away feeling even worse about myself, but then I remembered the above verse, which meant so much to me when I was writing my latest 30-day devotional on Disappointment and Loss. God had led me to it time and time again when I went to him with my questions and my sadness. 

I don’t understand why my mum suffered physical pain for so much of her life, or why she died exactly when she did. I also don’t understand why she cried so many tears of longing over my dad’s salvation but never saw the fruition of a promise spoken to her more than 30 years ago that she prayed faithfully into day after day.

I don’t understand why the world has been hit by this pandemic, or why we are seeing so many ongoing natural and manmade disasters that are causing immense suffering (although I do know many of our collective lifestyle choices have impacted the globe in horrendous ways). But what I do know is that God sees our pain, and he collects every single tear. While my family may not have understood my latest tearful outburst (and I don’t fully either), God did, and he lovingly recorded every single tear. And while I don’t fully comprehend why he does so, I do know that he cares for us tenderly and knows that we need an outlet for our pain and sorrow. 

Reflection: There has been so much loss and sorrow in the world this year. Have you given yourself time and space to process your own response before God? Could it be that he is lovingly inviting you to shed some tears before him?