I once put my hand under a tap of running water just to jerk it out immediately. The temperature was so extreme! However, I couldn’t recognize whether it was hot or cold right away. All I knew was that it was intense and my hand needed to come out from that water right then! Total opposites, hot and cold, yet when at extreme ranges, they are so close to the same. So it is with emotion and tears.
We cry when sad or scared. We cry when frustrated or hurt. We cry when nervous or uncertain, disappointed or defeated. Heck, we even cry when we are tired … or at least I do. And, of course, we cry when happy. Total opposites, happy and sad, yet when at extreme ranges, they are so close to the same.
I think of the many happy tears I’ve shed over the years and ponder at their origin – what contributed to them? Although each instance was set in a different experience, the feelings remain the same – gratitude and peace; seeing the beauty in life; the affirmation that ‘all is well’, even when my personal life is a mess. It is a reminder of God’s plan at its finest; the diversity and color of the world; the connections we make with each other and how they create the perfect web. It all comes together in one glorious design, all of us a part of it.
It reminds me of my favorite children’s book, “The Crayon Box that Talked,” by Shane DeRolf. The crayons couldn’t seem to get along. They all nitpicked at each other, so one very wise girl bought the crayons and had them all watch as she colored a picture with them. They began to see each individual contribution to the whole and how nicely they came together. In the end, they were able to claim, “We are a box of crayons, each one of us unique. But when we get together, the picture is complete.”
I am overwhelmed by the joy I take in witnessing my children experience this extreme emotion at such young ages. I rejoice at the gratitude they will be able to offer as they grow. I smile at the beauty they will see in God’s creation. I take comfort in the calm their hearts will know when they take it all in. Being able to know happy tears reassures me that life will be their playground. As should it be ours. The following are a couple of their stories:
Dream A Little Dream
I begin …
“Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the Sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me…”
Jentri lay with her head in my lap, my fingers gently stroking her damp locks. I continue singing,
“Say nighty-night and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me. While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me. Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss. I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn dear, just saying this… Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you …”
That’s when I hear her soft, muffled cries. She doesn’t indicate that anything is wrong, necessarily, so I let her be and keep singing.
“Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. And in your dreams whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.”
We sit quietly for a moment, me still stroking her hair. Then I ask,
“Sweetie, why are you crying?”
She pauses for a moment, then replies softly,
“These are just happy tears, Mama.”
My heart swells, and I smile, “Most of my tears are happy tears, too, Baby Girl.”
Wiping at His Eyes
Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ began playing. We all stood. Each row turned and faced the back where she was to enter. There she stood in her gown, a nervous but excited smile illuminating from her face. A pause, waiting for the planned measure to begin. And there it is. She begins her slow march down the aisle.
We all watch in reverence as she passes. I look down my row to take in the smiles and excitement of my children and notice my son wiping at his eyes. We sit. I lean over to him and ask,
“Bud, you alright?”
“I’m just so happy for her,” he insecurely admits, as he wipes at the other eye.
