Drops of water rolled down my cheek.
It felt exactly like crying, but with no agony of soul,
no taste of salt.
I was walking in the rain.
I have cried enough in my life to know just what that feels like,
tears rolling down my cheeks.
The feeling was exactly the same, only they weren’t my tears.
They were from somewhere else.
It is Holy Week, and I am thinking of Jesus.
Did Jesus cry on the cross?
How could he not?
My eyes always tear up when I feel pain.
The pain from crucifixion is unimaginable.
There surely were tears.
Not only would Jesus have felt physical pain,
but also such incredible sadness
at the ignorance, blindness, and hardness of heart
of people God’s hands had made.
People who clung avidly to
and rejected God-among-them,
Jesus would also have seen, through the haze of pain,
his beloved companions and family.
Their aghast expressions would not have escaped his notice,
even in the worst moments,
because Jesus always saw,
and Jesus always loved.
What I felt on my face during that walk was rain.
But it made me think of my Lord and what he did for me,
and it reminded me I am not supposed to live
as though none of that happened.
The tears have been cried.
The price has been paid.
Despite how we see ourselves,
despite the glaring character flaw of the moment,
God loves us, dearly, deeply.
It has been proven, on a cross.
It is a fact.
When we let go of those things we have manufactured
in order to save ourselves,
we can open our hands and receive
from the Giver of all good gifts —
from the Giver of the best gifts.
God decided, long ago, that we are worth it.
The rain comes, and the rain goes.
Tears come, and tears go.
The gift is eternal –
Emmanuel, God with us.