This is Why We Cry

The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: 

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the LORD bloweth upon it: surely the people is grass. 

The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever. Isa 40:6-8  

Crying is Good

In one sense we cry every day. But not all tears are from the eyes. On the surface everybody hates lies. Lies sting. We love truth instead, we affirm it, we crave it, we swear by it. Yet it’s not the lies that produce the most tears, but the truth.

Hence every day we juggle with hard facts. The greatest, and sorest, and the bloodiest battles that we fight, are not fought in the open, but they are fought inside us.

Their scars leave a permanent mark.

But we are adept at covering them.

That’s why we laugh, when in truth, what we want is to cry. Then there are days when we act bold and say what is in our mind, and that act we shall remember it from day into night, and again in the day… until the heart is torn from the body, it is lifted, and it is thrown down into the dust.

We juggle, and tremble, because we are not in control. We feel light, whereas what we want is to hold onto something heavy, like a rock.

We want to be steady.

We want stability.

But what we feel is chaos.

God is that rock. Thank God for that rock!

From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 

For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. 

I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings. Selah. 

For thou, O God, hast heard my vows: thou hast given me the heritage of those that fear thy name. Psa 61:2-5  

Life Ought to be Easy

Life is easier when you have someone you know, someone you trust, someone you fear; I mean the fear which is wrapped tightly around the heart, and which the great God calls wisdom.

We are a roller-coaster of contradictions.

And yet we want to be loved as we are.

We want to be taken home, but it is to the house we know, and the house which we have built with our own hands.

But the weather changes. The wind huffs and screams. The dust turns into mud, and the trees are shorn of their leaves. The rivers swell, and the clouds blanket the earth.

So is the weather of the mind. And deep in the subterranean a voice cracks: God!

Now there are two ways of reacting to such a scenario: one, inferring it to a bad dream (or a bad day), and two, uttering “This is from God.”

As when Jacob owned “God has been in this place, and I knew it not.”

God is still here.

For A Times Like This

God is speaking.

He speaks when we are sleeping. He speaks when we are awake. He speaks when we are walking, and he speaks when we are dancing. He speaks when the coffers run dry, and when the auctioneers carry everything. He speaks when the fountain in the house breaks, and he speaks when the sick bed goes silent. God speaks especially when a mold of fresh earth rises from the ground.

God begs to be worshipped in truth and spirit. You remove one from the other and that is when chaos reigns.

But we are here to defeat being overwhelmed.

We are here to be imbued with his joy every day.

We are here to have a foretaste of heaven.

This is our joy.

And no man taketh it from us.

There's no greater love than this.

There's no greater comfort than this.

There's no greater truth than this.

Because he lives, I shall also live.

Therefore whether I live, or whether I die, I am still his.

And this is his word according to his gospel.