"Weeping Lasteth the Night"–A Lenten MeditationPosted by Andrew on Mar 24, 2009 in Exhortations, Meditations | 410 comments
A number of my friends are going through some really difficult times. And I’ve had my share of late. These thoughts came up–sorry if they sound preachy. If they do, rest assured I’m preaching mostly to myself.
They say weeping may last the night, but joy cometh in the morning. True, and one of the only reasons to wake up and try again. But they never tell you that along with joy you still have to put up with puffy eyes.
Pain often infuses the path of this life; surely God knows this, for why else would He describe Heaven as the place where He wipes away all our tears? We all like Odysseus sit sometimes by the side of the sea with salt-rimmed eyes. God haste the day we wake up on the farther side of that shore and find we have, we are, all we need. And God help us somehow see that shore even today.
Perhaps, just perhaps, the visions of Heaven we find in the Scriptures and feel (sometimes) in our hearts are simply picture-postcards: “the weather is fine; wish you were here” maybe translates loosely into “all manner of things shall be well” and “even so, come Lord Jesus!” So today we struggle to agree with John and Julian.
A friend recently noted that weeping precedes resurrection, at least in Jesus’ life. Feeling deep despair comes at the verge of new life sweeping in, taking us by surprise, and catching us all off our guard.
And so as we pick our imperfect way through the rest of this Lent, maybe we might try to embody once more some of the paradoxes of our faith–we put ashes on our heads and think of the death of the body as spring bursts forth all around us. We mourn, though not as those without hope. We give thanks in ALL circumstances. And we weep through the night, and wait, puffy-eyed, for steadfast love, and new mercies every morning.
Lift up your weary heads, friends, if only for a moment (or a few moments at a time). Look to the hills. Help comes from on high. Remember that old prayer found in many traditions, “Oh God make speed to save us, Oh Lord make haste to help us.” How refreshing, because it says essentially what so many of us cry as we wrestle with our angels in the dark: “Hey God? Hurry UP!”
Keep crying. Run to the strong tower of the Name of the Lord. Grapple, give up, and then stumble to your feet and try again, a weather eye to the hills whence help comes. And let the tears fall, for none are in vain, and God catches them all and treasures them up like diamonds against that great and glorious Day.
They say that joy cometh in the morning. Given how I need it now, I hope that it’s all true.