It's Crying Outside

It's crying outside. Gentle tears cleansing dusty, yellowed blades. Long withered leaves clinging fast surrender their grasp, finally. To fall and join the dry and crumpled chorus below. And waiting. Unaware. Teardrops puddle. Life still, tender in the moment. Colorless grey hugs and hangs over hope.

And I remember... Crying inside. Gentle tears flowing. My forever friend. And God gathers the cleansing, healing, salty hot tears. But you, Abba...

You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.

Ps. 56:8 (NLT)


... My first encourager surrendered her grasp, joining the chorus of loved ones gone before. Yet she remains with me. Notes, letters, photographs. Symbolic earth sisters, Eternal sisters. And hope colors again. Grey lifts. Restoration and renewal!









And here I am. Honoring her encouragement once again. Surrendering my grasp, releasing words. Flowing words... Her long ago words echo - "... praying for you through pivotal changes" - in beloved memory. And I pick up my pen, cry one last tear, and listen to His Calling. Writing obedient.


And God whispers...

As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

Isaiah 55:10-11 (NIV)