Some days the air feels suffocating. The same days, generally foretold by a rough, late night followed by a morning in which the weight to raise my head off the pillow is crippling. Some days the tears can’t retain themselves, crashing through even the steadiest of voices & rippling through every friendly greeting. Some days it feels more okay to not be okay & to trench through the day weathering the storm. No strength to fight anymore, only to sit back in our chairs & lower our eyes until the rain stops devastating.
So this morning the words that have been on my mind are clinging with relevance, glistening in the morning dew. She wrote to the girl with the rainy face to sow into sorrow. Sow into the tears.
“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.” (Psalm 126:5-6)
Sowing in season reaps fruitfulness. Do you hear that? Sowing in season reaps fruitfulness.
We cannot expect a season of pain & loss & laboring & uprooting to produce shouts of joy & revival without yielding to the process. Pain cannot be cut short, the same as emotions cannot be buried. As wrong as it can feel, as much as tears can feel like an interruption to the plan than part of the plan, feeling is truth. You are not wrong to feel things apart from happiness. Just as Solomon wrote in the book of Ecclesiastes, there is a time for everything (3:1-8), & there is nothing better than the promise he concludes the thought with.
“What gain has the worker from his toil? I have seen the business God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (9-11)
Solomon, to whom God granted abundant wisdom & knowledge, says he’s seen it all. I know the trials you are going through, & I know how they seem to amount to nothing. But here’s what I know. All of this, the sorrow & hardships & war & hurt, all of this will be made beautiful in their time. & though you can’t see yet, someday you’ll see the good works I’ve done through this.
There’s beauty in the rainbow to be uncovered at the end of the storm. How cheesy, but true. There’s a promise to guide us through each season, a treasure to store up in your heart, carrying you home when the seas rage. All things are made beautiful in their time & this, too, will be made beautiful. He carries us through to a rainbow at the end, holding another promise. & isn’t it how Mary got by through all the turmoil, from trying to convince people of her Son of God’s virgin birth, to watching her Son be brutally murdered on a cross? After the shepherd’s arrived to meet their savior, when they spoke of all the hope that God’s angels told them this child held for humanity, Luke says that Mary ‘treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart’ (2:19). She held to his promises. & this is what I want to leave you with, along with commentary from Kaitlyn Wernet, author at She Has Worth. She writes, “Though she had plenty of chances to act from her flesh, Mary opted to serve the Lord by savoring her collection of things she knew to be true.”
It’s not about numbing yourself to emotion. Mary sowed in season. She sowed in tears. I think its safe to say she stood beside her son on the cross & felt as though she might die of the sorrow that overwhelmed her. I bet the air was suffocating. But it’s about choosing to weather the storm, with a mind that keeps the storms size correctly proportioned in comparison with our God. Keep clinging love. Keep believing in the treasures he’s given you for the rainy days. Keep feeling things. Keep trusting.