“Not all tears are evil,” proclaims J.R.R. Tolkien. I just read this quote and I wondered which tears would be considered evil? I thought perhaps tears that are used to manipulate someone – those sound evil to me. I don’t know if I have ever shed any evil tears, but I have gotten pretty good at plain, old, righteous tears.

Anyway, the reason that quote caught my attention (it was in a grief book) is that I had just gone through an interesting tear experience. It was actually 4 1/2 experiences and wasn’t tear-filled, just about tears themselves. That sounds silly, but I felt that I was being taught something and since this blog is about my life lessons (which currently are focused on grief) I thought that I might as well share. Perhaps someone else is tearing up a bit too often and would like to hear about this….

Europe was amazing for tears because they didn’t come! I was missing my man and felt pangs of sorrow, but not to the point of tears. Typing about homelessness on the ride home… well, that brought tears but no crying. They were hot and streaming down my face but I kept it under control – probably because I was surrounded by hundreds of strangers packed in like sardines. This was my 1/2 experience and it doesn’t really count.

Coming home to an empty house really stinks but I was fine. Then I looked at Mark’s funeral program which remains on the refrigerator. It felt like a good time to be sad so I cried as I prepared for bed. No problem until it began to get too sad and I let myself remember past hurts and began to feel that this was all not fair, etc. This is not really where I am comfortable, so it was time to pray. That was my first experience wherein I felt like I was being instructed on different types of tears.

As I prayed a whole new type of tears came. I was so incredibly grateful for Mark and our wonderful marriage. I know that this is a blessing that doesn’t come to many of us, at least not to the extent that we enjoyed. I was humbled and grateful and full of love and these tears felt good. The gratitude was mixed with sorrow but it was good sorrow, the kind with which I AM comfortable. At this point I think I began to feel the instruction about tears – and these tears were healthy.

The next morning I was driving from something, just content and going about my day. BAM! I was hit with a new set of tears. This time it was all about missing Mark. I just missed him – that was the only emotion that I felt. I didn’t even feel sadness other than the sorrow that accompanies missing someone. I just wanted him in the truck beside me – healthy or sick or whatever, it wouldn’t matter, just so long as he was with me! Once again I felt that I was being shown a different level of tears and I liked being able to identify my emotion.

Be Still My Soul has been a hymn with particular importance to ever since the night that I drove home alone in the dark heading south while Mark headed north in an ambulance. That was before the peace settled in such that when I listened later I could scarcely recall the pain of that drive.

Abide With Me

Ok – I guess the song of that night was Abide With Me, but Be Still My Soul was right there also. Here is the Gentri version although this has nothing to do with my tears last week… Actually it is beautiful to watch this video because Stephen Nelson created this arrangement when his mother died of cancer. We enjoyed visiting with Stephen on our cruise in 2023.

Back on topic – another version of Be Still My Soul now finds it way into my daily life – at least once a day. I saw this performed live when we lived in Dallas and I have to say that the Dallas soprano knocks this version out of the park… but it is still beautiful. Listen to it when you have some quiet time but pay particular attention sometime after the 5 minute marker… While in Europe Stacey reminded me that this represents angels coming to help us.

I was again in my car listening to this beautiful music and when the multiple angels began to sing. The tears were back along with my fourth lesson. Worship! That is the word that came to me – these were tears of worship and the culmination of my instruction. I have felt tears during spiritual moments and might later explain that I had been touched by the Spirit, but I had never even thought that I had experienced tears of worship. I think that perhaps this was the highest form of tears, certainly for me. It actually felt fantastic and I think it was a result of my increased time in prayer.

That was the end of my instruction, but the next morning I was once again enjoying this hymn when the angels began… and I began to think of real angels (female) who might be helping me right now. I thought of the photographs of my two grandmothers when they were young and of my dear sister-in-law. (Yes, there were tears – the humble, grateful kind.) I rewound and played it again remembering I have also lost two of my aunts, and perhaps other women that I don’t know but are connected to me somehow. As I am writing I have it playing in the background and I just remembered Jennifer, my best friend from high school who has been gone for almost a year. This time around I am going to think about her.

What about Mark? You know he was in my thoughts as well – I pictured him in the male angel chorus awaiting his turn to sing… and this is when the final chorus was almost too much to take in…

Be still my soul; the hour is hast’ning on when we shall be forever with the Lord,

When disappointment, grief and fear are gone, sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.

Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past, all safe and blessed we shall meet at last.