Tears Brimming (expanded and edited)

TEARS Brimming

Nov 2004

Cathryn flowers Ritchie

     Grief arrests us in peculiar ways. Sometimes he’s a violent storm trampling our souls, leaving us battered, bruised. Other times he is slow and sorrowful.

     Recently I found him in His gentle state. Tired and bone sore from some physical and emotional wounds I sat down in a chair that wrapped its softness and warmth around me. Resting my head back on a pillow, my feet up on a nearby bed, weeping overcame me. Not loud weeping but an inward cry tinged with soft moans. Sometimes the energy to cry can’t be found. Along with pain, a sweet awareness of God’s tender arms permeated the room. His hushing murmurs called me to sleep and I knew He heard the words of my soul.

         The tears came, rising out of my well. Just slight – just barely, brimming on  

     myeyelids, resting there while sleep captured me. Awaking twenty minutes later,

     the tears crested and fell. Rinsed and refreshed I was in wonder that though tears

     were present the pain had fled.