But, But I Don't Like To Cry!

I really don’t. I hardly ever let anyone see me cry. And if there is one thing you will never catch Lauren Lee doing, it is crying in public.

I suppose yesterday was an exception to that rule.

Seated in a Denny’s booth across the table from my father, everything came out . . . Noah’s flood all over again. Now, upon recalling that episode, how terribly embarrassing it was! Although – at the time, I didn’t really care who saw me. I’m afraid that was quite evident; for when the poor waitress came to see if we needed any refills, my attempt at politeness, “NO, thank you” in-between sniffles came out a bit more hostile than intended . . . The unsuspecting soul was quite taken by surprise and scuffled herself back to the kitchen.

It was as if all the weight in the world had just been lowered on my shoulders. Not all at once – but slowly. It was a prolonged torture that finally came to a climax. A slow inflammation of my feelings that eventually led to an outbreak of raw emotion. I hated myself then … For I had sworn to myself many, many times . . . If anyone were to see me cry, my father would be the last man on earth to have that satisfaction. The worst part of it all was that I knew that by crying, my Dad felt some level of control. Control over my emotions. This is a terrible thing to say … a terrible thing to live with. But when he sees his children cry, he doesn’t feel badly . . . he feels powerful. Sitting across that table, he didn’t do anything or say anything to share my feelings, or release me from my obvious misery. His face was cold, a look that had harshness written all over it. When I finally came to my senses, I picked my head up out of my hands and looked at his expression. It was as if I could see right past his flesh into his thoughts . . . His face seemed to read, “What a bother.” This made me cry even more . . . the fact that I couldn’t even cry in front of my own Dad.

Lets go on a rabbit trail for a moment . . .

Aren’t we all guilty of turning the cold shoulder to a person in need? Perhaps not to such an extreme as with my Dad … But Instead of “bearing one another’s burdens” (Galations 6:2) we shrink away from the pain? Empathy is just too … inconvenient. Can’t we just leave it to someone else out there?

No!

It is commanded of us all throughout the Bible that we are to be compassionate to the hurting, and extend helping hands to those who are suffering. Though this situation with my Dad has been extremely painful, it has definitely taught me this, if anything: weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 says: Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” I believe that God truly has given me these hard times to teach me to cry with other people. To let it out. To weep with them. To understand what they’re going through. I pray so fervently that God might use me in this way … to teach me compassion . . . and show me the lost and hurting, that his light might shine through me. Is this not what Christ did for us? He didn’t have to be tortured! He didn’t HAVE to live a life on earth! But he did – because he wanted to relate to his children, and feel their pain, living in a sinful world.

Off the rabbit trail. ;)

When we left the restaurant, I had an odd sense of peace come over me. Yes – despite the smeared mascara and red nose (the unfortunate by-products) – I wasn’t a total mess. Even though my earthly father didn’t care about my tears . . . I knew I still had a Father that did. Who welcomed me with open arms, saying: “You need a hug.” “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23, one of the most famous in the Bible, put it brilliantly … I had just walked through what seemed like Hell, but despite it all, there was still a “peace that transcends all understanding” Philippians 4:7! What a comfort … that my Father is ALWAYS there, always empathetic, always ready to listen.

Even though it was a tough day, I was finally able to rest in the comfort of my heavenly father. Though I don’t feel like I can “let it out” in front of dad, I know that the Lord, my true Father, is up there saying:

“I am a safe place for your tears . . . come, and I will cry with you.”

Lord, thank you for your compassion. When all else fails, there you are. Thank you for wrapping me in your arms with the intention of keeping me there for eternity … for being the father that I don’t have. Help me to be content in your love! Amen.

~Lauren Lee