They burned at the corners of my eyes.
Taunting me, taking me to a place of weakness, reminding me of hidden, shameful times-
the tears threatened to undo me.
Lesser hands, jagged-edged words, and an aloneness beyond explanation had created a solitary confinement at the bottom of a briny sea.
Tears were my one allowance, an acknowledgement of how broken my soul had become.
Sometimes a single seepage, wiped away instantly in defiant haste.
Other times, a torrential storm, where no shelter was ever enough.
These salty droplets were my white-flagged surrender to frailty.
And they terrified me.
Yet.
He took me to wide open spaces, without a shoreline in sight, where we played according to new rules.
Pain was at the end of His will- He controlled it, directed it, and contained it.
My tears would come, but they were now His.
Saltwater redeemed as the waters of baptism,
blessing and making all things new.
Rule 42: Crying and the shedding of tears at any time is good and expected for it softens my will and bonds me closer to my Master.
