Tears are the liquid product of a process of crying to clean and lubricate the eyes. Strong emotions, such as sorrow or elation, may lead to crying. Tears flow from tear glands into your eyes through tiny tear ducts. The tear glands are located under your upper lids, and when stimulated, produce tears to form a thin film over your eyeballs. Every time you blink the film spreads over your eyes to keep them moist and free of dust and other irritants. Whether you are awake or asleep, happy or sad, this salty fluid is always flowing from the tear glands.
It is said that “tears are the words the heart can’t express,” and “tears are the safety valve of the heart when too much pressure is laid on it,” [Albert Smith]. It is also said that the advantage women have over men is that they can cry more easily; but whatever the definition they express an emotion that cannot be contained. Thus I ended up at the communion table last Sunday simply weeping over God’s presence. I had felt His presence a day to two before in a manner that stirred my heart as I sat at my study table; tears formed as I read the scriptures. He was resplendently evident in His word; a text gripped my soul, my tear ducts began to discharge.
When walking my late dog in pastures green, I would often meditate on God’s glory and goodness, and preach the word to myself, and would find that my eyes would fill with tears over his supreme wonder. I would also muse on how I would react if I met someone I knew, what I would say to explain my tears, or would I bother to do so? They would not understand, it was private, between my Saviour and me, and there it stands. The nearer his presence the greater the tears, he was not just the God of creation amidst my walking, but he was my friend and lover. He spoke the word before creation and darkness turned to glorious light; he spoke the word sixty years ago in my soul and my darkness slipped away. How can I hold back my tears when thinking of such a great God, who loves me with no imposed conditions?
Last Sunday dawned bright with God’s august presence in and around my spirit; I arrived in Harrow, dropped Patricia at the church and went on to collect Marc DuPont from the hotel. As we journeyed the short distance to HICC, I said to him, “I have tears in my soul today,” he as is usual said nothing, he is man of few words. I thought he would understand, I think he did, but wisely left the words for me. We started the service and God was in the worship, there was this overwhelming sense of him being about the place. Some Sundays are just Sundays and we come, worship and go home, and we knew he was there but it was not so manifest. Last Sunday was dramatically different. His divine presence appeared, life changed.
We have people in our congregation who were converted in the worship; I understand why they were; when God appears pretence and superficiality passes away, our sin also. We stand in the ambience of pure love; his eyes burn out rebellion and bring forgiveness. How could we not weep for joy and thankfulness before such a potentate with such love dispensed. We see ourselves as we really are, and know how much he suffered to make us whole, the pain of Calvary breaks our heart and mends it simultaneously.
I tried to hold back my tears, to be respectable in front of a congregation, to do all things decently and in order, but whose order, mine or God’s? As it was, it was impossible, his presence was so great, I could not resist, and just wept uncontrollably. I’m not embarrassed by that action or unduly concerned, I wish more would weep, some did [they told me afterwards]. “They that sow in tears reap in joy,” that’s a divine principle; it’s a sowing and reaping situation.
John 11:35-36 tells us that “Jesus wept.” Wept over the death of Lazarus and over unbelief, and there are some things we have to do. When my dog died suddenly last June, I did not weep but did have tears in my eyes; he was a loyal and true friend who dogged my steps. Jesus is an even greater friend who promises never to leave us or forsake us; our hearts are joined as one, as David and Jonathan were, so it is with Christ and me. How about you.
