I’ve rarely cried in my life.
I’ve endured some crippling physical pain without shedding a tear. I’ve been haunted night after night, day after day by the mental endurance marathon of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and never shed the first tear. I consider crying something kids do. I mean grown men don’t cry, right?
When I was young, my Dad considered me tough
because at the age of eight, I went four weeks with a ruptured appendix without the first tear. An oh my Lord, how it hurt. As I got older, I found it harder and harder to shed a tear over any physical pain because my thought was that it would hurt whether I cried or not and there was no use in putting forth the effort to cry.
Being a grown man didn’t change much.
I endured 13 weeks of Marine Corps boot camp, surviving the last 3 weeks on a fractured ankle that no one knew about or was gonna find out about because it would’ve caused me to have to heal on Parris Island. The pain of boot camp, being mostly mental, hurt my feelings in more ways and times than one, but I made it, unscathed from a tear drop. I had the glamorous idea that I was tough, that is, until I met Christ.
I became a Christian in 2006
and at first, there seemed to be no inward or outward change in me. I did feel much better knowing I was in church but the truth of just exactly what salvation would come to mean to me had not revealed its presence in me. I often sat in the presence of God, with the children of God, and felt, well, sorta dry.
For some folks, the moment they receive salvation jerks tears from their eyes.
I felt like maybe God wasn’t happy with me because no tears were available at the time of my salvation. I felt like I was unwanted therefore unsaved. So I began a quest in late 2006 to find the secret of God’s salvation by studying the Scriptures ten chapters a day. I did not want to be left behind. My eyes never brought the first tear, until …
Three years later,
around the timeframe of May, 2009, I was reading the Word and writing notes in my newly purchased wide margin Bible.. By this time I had read the entirety of Scriptures through, cover-to-cover, nearly four times. On that May morning, my streak of total dry eyes fell into jeopardy and eventually was broken.
I had stepped outside to take a break
and a scene popped in my head resembling a true vision. I saw Christ suffering on the cross with the sun beginning to set. I saw His agony. I empathized with His pain. I saw the people standing and mocking His Lordship. I saw the crown of thorns. All of this seemed to happen in slow motion. Then, the vision ceased, and in my mind I heard a voice which simply said, “I did it for you. I did it all for you”. The scene revisited me in memory and I let out the biggest and saddest yell and tears fell on my cheeks as if 21 years of backed up so called toughness, came rolling all out at once. I told Christ that I loved Him over and over. And I did love Him.
When comparing the boy who wouldn’t cry to the man who felt true and unwavering love,
I often chuckle. Physical pain couldn’t break my streak. Mental pain, hah, a laugh a minute. Emotional pain hurt but my streak would not be broken by it. It took true love from God to buckle my knees, break my pride, and leave me with red eyes and a wet shirt. I was humbled by His love.
Knowing that Christ did die for each and every soul that has or will live on planet Earth,
we really need to take a good look at the plan of God to save us and the passion of Christ, who worked God’s plan to perfection. Take a biblical trip during this April and study the mission and the mission completion of Christ. Be open to feeling all of His love and you will experience a moment of tears that literally will set you free. Accept His love. I had a glimpse and His love is beyond all I could fathom and while nothing else could break my tearless streak, He broke it with a feeling of being loved, and that truly a miracle.