For Cryin' Out Loud

What is it about the power of the tear? Crying is the outward expression of such a huge range of emotions. Newborns cry as a means of survival. Many people cry when in either physical or emotional pain or distress. A toddler who has wandered away from his mother cries tears of panic, frightened at being alone. Bud cries big crocodile tears in protest of going to time out. Li'l G cries from embarassment and shamefulness when she is called on doing something that she knew was wrong. I cried tears of joy when these two crazies popped out of my ginormous belly. T. cried tears of disbelief that he had become a father. I cried tears of frustration yesterday because my lack of time spent at the gym is starting to show when I go to Pilates. And the kids and I cry tears of anguish, weeping bitterly for the daddy that they can't see but are told loves them even now as he stays in heaven with Jesus.

Tears are so powerful.

It's been an odd week for me emotionally. I personally have not spent much time crying, unless you want to count the huge lump in my throat at Pilates yesterday, but that was just me being frustrated with my lack of gym time and knowing that I should and could be handling my stress better. At any rate, I understand very well the blessed release of allowing yourself to cry. When I observe others crying, it doesn't necessarily make me uncomfortable. I generally think that, rather than attempt to console someone and end up saying something completely insensitive to their situation, they should be allowed to cry it out. Better to cry than to bottle it up.

I was touched today watching a little girl cry at Li'l G's school. I met Li'l G up at school with a special lunch and sat with her and her classmates at the big tables. A table full of Kindergarteners talking and eating simultaneously is NOT for the weak-stomached! S4J would've had a stroke envisioning all levels of unsanitariness (???) of this lunchtime experience, but I was rolling with it, enjoying watching these kids in their element. I felt like I was watching an episode of, "Kids Say The Darndest Things," with Bill Cosby. It was great.

I visited with Li'l G and the kids sitting around us, as they all dug into their ice cream first and talked with their mouths full. As I looked up and down the table, trying to remember all their names, I noticed one little girl sitting at the far end, reserved for kids who need "help focusing on eating their lunch." I know this little girl has issues with behavior but seems to be a good kid. She cried, at times hysterically, throughout the entire 30-minute lunch period. What was she crying about? What set her off? She sat curled up in her chair for a good amount of time, looking back over her shoulder towards the window with a thousand-meter stare on her face, eyes shiny, nose swollen and red. Then, at one point, she turned around and put her hands up to her ears, almost as if she was trying to drown out the noise in the room. I just had to wonder: what is it in a five year-old's life that would prompt an emotional reaction of this intensity that lasts for this long? Having been a teacher, I immediately had a long list of possible factors, and my heart just broke for her.

It was odd. As I watched her sit there crying, it was as if I could envision her at 12, 15, 23. The look on her face spoke of years of intense emotion of some sort. At the tender age of five, she chooses to express herself in a fit of tears and acting out during centers. How will she choose to "get it out" at 12? 15? 23? I'd love to think that she will be raised in a God-fearing, Christ-proclaiming home, or at least have family members who will pray for her throughout her lifetime. I just wish I had had the words, and the legal ability, to tell this troubled little girl that, no matter how bad it gets and how mad or frustrated or lonely she feels, there is a real God who loves her no matter what choices she makes in life and no matter what terrible things people may have to say to her. Her life is no accident, and she is not alone in this world. Or to quit crying about not getting to sit by her best friend and eat her dang PBJ already! (just kidding...)

Our schools, offices, hospitals, Wal-Marts, churches, and grocery stores are full of people who are still that small, hurting child inside. Who will dry their tears? Who will care when they've reached their breaking point? Who will encourage them to ask God to help them forgive? Who will live out the Gospel for them in a way that doesn't turn it right back into law, setting them up for expectations that no one but Jesus can meet? My friends, we are all called to do this. This is a huge responsibility, right?!? Absolutely. Are we capable of doing this? Absolutely not. This is just where we've got to let the Comforter do his thing through us. For me, if I can just remember to pray for this little girl every time I drive past the school, I feel like I've at least done something. I try to speak to each of the kids in the class, remember their names, smile, joke around with them, and encourage them whenever I help out up at the school. I may not be kicking in the door of her home and rescuing her from some dramatic situation, but I can be the one happy face she sees in a day. Even that counts.