You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your record? ~Psalm 56:8
Image snagged from Pinterest.
Rose-Lynn Fisher compiled a beautiful photographic collection of microscopic tears. One can only imagine the sorrow and pain she endured before the question formed in her mind of whether all tears looked the same under a microscope. What a beautiful answer she received when she went looking for the answers. I can imagine it was emotionally cathartic for her, whatever trials she had been through. Then she didn’t stop there, but collected tears of other people to continue her collection and research.
I love that they are diverse. That “joy tears” and “grief tears” look different, because we know they feel different when we shed them.
I love that she included “onion tears”, you know, tears without emotion have GOT to be different than those from deep sorrow, pain, or happiness. But I’d have never thought to ask, I’m so glad she did.
I love the thought of God collecting our tears, and putting them in a bottle…I wonder if maybe he has different bottles for different tears, for the purpose of looking at the beauty in them all.
I feel bad for Thomas. He has a forever negative reputation for being human like me.
So, he needed extra proof…so do I some days.
So, he was skeptical…nothing wrong with that, is there? Aren’t we told to be wise as serpents..innocent as doves? How can we be wise if we believe everything we’re told.
If you are like Thomas (and me), and won’t believe until you can see and feel His wounds for yourself, don’t be surprised or dismayed when you are given the opportunity to do so, because, if you ask, there will be opportunity.
These thoughts have been rattling around my wee brain for several days. While relating to Thomas’ request, it was as if I heard the Lord speak to my heart; You don’t even know what you’re asking, Lyn. Do you really want to feel my wounds?
This is what my wounds feel like:
When the weight of your burden brings you to your knees;
—Remember, I also fell under the weight of my own cross, and needed help bearing it.
When your body is wracked with chronic physical pain;
—Join Me in My scourging. I suffered similar physical pain from strikes, stripes, and blows.
When your ideas, and ideals are held in derision. Your very motives of your deepest thoughts and desires are suspect.
—Experience the same pointed, piercing thorns that were forced into My brow.
When the work of your hands is belittled, or scoffed.
—Feel the nail prints in My hands.
When the path that you walk is misunderstood or held in suspicion.
—Remember the wounds in My feet.
When your support system crumbles. There is no one you can trust, no one who understands, you feel forgotten or overlooked.
—Participate in the loneliness and grief I felt when even My own Father turned His back on Me.
When your heart is pierced by reckless words or actions of those you love;
—Plunge your hand into the wound in My side that had gushed forth blood and water for you.
Be careful what you ask for…but if you mean it…here I am.