Good Tears

[Pictures: me at the UN, Disarmament session, view from the UN, Paula's new family, view of Lausanne and Evian from Paula's balcony]



I’m not a crybaby in particular. But now that I think about it, I’ve had several incidents of tears since I got here, and all of them have been good. Each time it’s been in recognition of God’s word to me, with hope and gratitude for what He’s doing.

~ Tears at a prayer service the Saturday night I arrived in Geneva. We were singing “Days of Elijah” in French, and when we got to the part about “these are the days of Your servant, Moses: righteousness being restored”, my eyes spilled over. It continues:

Here He comes, shining like the sun Riding on the clouds, at the trumpet call Lift your voice, it’s the year of Jubilee Out of Zion’s hill salvation comes

Recalling those words in English made the tears flow even more. I’m here exactly 7 years (to the month) after I moved away. Already this year I’ve experienced more freedom than I’ve ever known. It’s my year of Jubilee, no question.

~ Tears last Thursday in the park with a Christian woman, when she told me that Derek Adamsbaum, the retired pastor of the church I attend here, would be coming back to preach on Sunday. That unanticipated news hit me in the solar plexus, and suddenly I was really weeping and couldn’t stop.

Adamsbaum’s sermons had been grounding and bolstering as I suffered through the spring months in Lausanne in 2000. Now my return had coincided with his once-a-year visit. I realized with a jolt that my saga of miracles wasn’t done. This really was as sentimental a trip as I thought it should be. God was telling me, “Here’s a little nostalgic gift for you. See? I haven’t turned my back just because everything’s fine, any more than I would have when things were so terrible. I am with you, and I really do place just as high an importance on this time as you do.”

It’s been so easy and fun to be this safe in a place I’d been so scared to come back to. I’d gone so far as to forget the need to mourn that anything bad had really happened. Which is a truly great thing. Above all, it was good to get that resounding affirmation from God that He loves me, that He’s still dictating the details of this trip, and that He’s got me in a totally new and beautiful phase of life. I knew it the minute I received the acceptance to this academic program and ran squealing through my office, gripped with that knowledge so strongly that I simply couldn’t be quiet or hold still.

~ Tears on Saturday night with my dear old friend Paula, who had been a student when I was at Lausanne, and whom I had not seen in 6 years. We had a rich time catching up and enjoying deep spiritual fellowship for hours. Late that night, she had something to tell me. “Christine, you’re not here this time as a tourist, or as a missionary. You are HOME.”

We both knew that statement was from God Himself, and all I could do was curl up in her hug and cry. What a precious, tender thing for God to say. I’d spent the previous night with my friend Christa in Basel, and she had commented that, ever since I left Lausanne in 2000, I had wandered around the world, never finding my place to rest. Paula declared my long-awaited arrival at home, and we knew in our hearts that it was true.

~ Tears on Sunday as Derek read the words to “It is Well With My Soul” at the close of his sermon. It was so rich to hear those words at the other end of this long journey, as Derek concluded preaching on facing our fear, with the secure knowledge that God is with us: “the LORD is my helper; what can man do to me?”

~ Tears Tuesday night at the church’s young adults’ fellowship night. The evening was devoted to prayer, praise and singing. Michelle Fiore read Psalm 30, which so perfectly spelled out the depth of where I had been and the height of God’s raising me up, that I was deeply moved. When I began to pray aloud in thanksgiving, I couldn’t hold back my tears at all. It was time to publicly thank God for what He had done and to affirm His goodness of character and intent towards me. What a privilege to be able to sit in the same living room I had sat in seven years ago, with a few of the same people but mostly new, and thank God for returning me to that spot in victory and peace.

Hmmm, five times in about ten days. I guess I am a bit of a soggy doggy. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I read somewhere a long time ago, “Tears make it real.” For me, they’re a validation of the depth of what God is doing and a reminder that I am simply human with a soft heart. My troubles have not hardened me, thank God. Brian Morgan once quoted a beautiful Jewish poem which ends:

And may a special providence look out
For those who feel deeply.

Amen.