People say I’m the life of the party
Because I tell a joke or two
Although I might be laughing loud and hearty
Deep inside I’m blue
So take a good look at my face
You’ll see my smile looks out of place
If you look closer, it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears… – Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Today I wept. Like Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. It was an ugly cry too. Snot, red eyes, puffy face. I had to pull it together quick for my 4:30 Pilates class.There was nothing I could do to hold back the tears while I drove down Blair Road on my way to the gym. It was all triggered by mix cd my elementary school homie dropped off last week. A thoughtful gesture on his behalf turned into a purging release on mine. He titled the cd Escapism, and by the time I got to track #7, “Only a Man” by Jonny Lang, I was filled to the brim. The words, harmonies, and guitar all ministered to my heart. I just let go.
So many times we are unable to let go. Either we are in the wrong setting, it seems inappropriate at the time, or we are concerned of what others may think. Today, I didn’t care. It was liberating for a moment but then I had to stop. Pilates was calling. The entire time I was looking forward to class ending, so I could hit the sauna and cry in the hot darkness.
Unfortunately, I have mastered the art of controlling my tears. It started at a young age. I remember being such a cry baby when I was a child. I actually think my sister used to tease me. *side-eye* I cried to express a plethora of emotions; happiness, hurt, anger, fear.By high school I had perfected what me and my bff Nicole call “thug tears”: shed a few silent, straight-faced tears while maintaining a level a composure and slight gangsta. Over the years, I adopted my “there’s no crying in baseball” mentality; what good would my tears do? Would it make the circumstances change? Maybe, maybe not. But I failed to recognize the one thing that crying personally does for me; it allows me to release; to cleanse and discharge out all the hurt and frustration. It’s like a mini emancipation. How dare I deny myself a process that comes so naturally just because others think its childish or weak?
I have had an emotional week. Almost all my hair fell out, I gained a pound, had another round of chemo, another allergic reaction, felt like I had heartburn for two days, on top of dealing with how to express myself to my father, still looking for a house, buying wigs, and cultivating a new relationship with a wonderful fine brotha, I am emotionally exhausted!!! Gosh darnit, I deserve to shed a few tears! HMPFH! And it’s ok, because I know my tears are not in vain. I feel like God takes special care when we cry. In Galatians, the Bible speaks about we reap what we sow…whatever a man soweth, that is the exact thing he will reap. If that be the case, if a person sows tears, you would assume he would reap more right? Well, I came to the conclusion that God loves us so much, He changed that reaping rule in the case of tears. Psalm 126:5 says “They that sow in tears shall reap in joy”. Wait, I can get joy for my tears?! Sounds like a win-win situation to me!
So let me ask you, when’s the last time you had a good cry?
Psalm 30:5 (New International Version)
5 weeping may remain for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.