Tears, Glorious Tears

At this house, it seems as if someone is always crying.

Little Mister Wilder cries when he is hungry. And he cries when he can't manage to flip his thumb in the correct direction and maintain its position in his own minuscule mouth. He cries at four a.m. and he cries around seven thirty as well. If his diaper change is taking too long, tears ensue. When the food that should stay in his stomach flows out of his mouth and around his head, he cries about that as well.

For Piper the tears are born of genuine frustration with her current lot in life. She wants to go outside like the big kids. She cannot. She cries. She stands at the window, watching the life she wishes she had and she cries for what she cannot yet achieve. If the butter doesn't get passed to her quickly enough at the dinner table, she might cry. If a brother or sister is standing on her toy - she'll let them know with a big, fat cry. When she wants her shoes on her feet, crying is her preferred method of communicating that fact. She sees a bug - tears. Wants to get out of her playpen - tears. Wants a cracker - tears.

Believe it or not, Bergen's tears are almost always generated from hurt feelings as opposed to hurt body parts. (Of which he has more than his fair share.) Through his tears he tells me that London/Mosely/Piper hurt his feelings. And that makes him soooooooo sad.

Mosely cries when her feelings are hurt, when her finger is hurt, when the weather turns warm or when the wind blows. Tears come fast and furious to her.

London primarily cries for physical pain - and although that isn't often, she can really lay it on thick when the pain deems it necessary.

Riley doesn't cry nearly so much these days - at least publicly. But oh - let me tell you some stories sometime of her past teary escapades.

And if it isn't one of the kids, it might be me.

Sometimes I feel like I live in a Tear Factory and my primary task is picking up the pieces After The Tears. I get my arms ready for hugs when that's appropriate or my mouth ready for words of encouragement or admonishment - whatever the situation demands. And sometimes my actions can help heal the tears a little and I offer some basic comfort and sometimes I fall far short of healing and am hurtful instead, causing more tears.

Which makes me think, I bet God looks at this world He made and these people He has set loose with their crazy free wills and thinks that all He made was a Giant Tear Factory.

We are always crying about something - aren't we? And sometimes, like Wilder's cries, the complaints might be legitimate. But probably the cries are more often like my other kids' cries - born of selfish motives and self-serving ambitions and desires. Sometimes we cry out of our genuine pain and I think that's okay. And I know God greets our tears with understanding and patience or correction and direction. He isn't like me and I am so grateful. He never adds to our hurt by saying the wrong words or losing his temper when our whiny cries reach deafening decibels. He is true and steadfast and he has the ability to turn the weeping into joy.