So, I’m not really any emotional guy. Actually, strike that. I am an emotional guy, but it doesn’t really manifest itself through real, live tears.
The exception to this rule is whenever I’m really, really tired or when the Lord decides to minister to me through song. The latter happened at church this past Sunday during our time of Communion.
This is an aspect of our worship service that happens twice a month, every month. It’s a special time to “do this in remembrance of Jesus,” who gave his life as a sacrifice for us, the sinners he loves. We didn’t do anything to deserve it, and yet he freely gives it.
During the “passing of the cup” (that represents Jesus’ blood shed for us), we sang “We Will Feast in the House of Zion.” It’s a song I really, really like, and it’s one that my friends seem to talk about in passing or bust out singing at random.
This past Sunday, the tears just started flowing. It wasn’t a torrential downpour by any means, but it was certainly the first crop of anything substantial my tear ducts have mustered up as of late. And, I think it happened for these reasons, which I’ll list out to give you another “inside” look into how my heart/life processes things.
Our church community was jamming. It was such a beautiful thing to witness: people with many different stories and experiences, proclaiming this message to God as we partook of this special mealtime together.
In a weird way, as our pastor presided over the elements, I started to think about my dad, who is a pastor too. I’ve experienced him distribute Communion, or The Lord’s Supper, many times before — but not recently. There was a joy that came over me, reflecting on all the Lord’s done in my life and the bond that this meal proclaims, not just to be Christian blood relatives but to the larger Church family of believers.
In the chorus, it says, “He has done great things. We will say together. We will feast and weep no more.” Ironic, right? Here I am, crying. However, it was this perfect blend of joy and sorrow and then back to joy, which I felt the Lord guiding me through — and I know he’s continuing to guide me through.
Lastly, I think for some reason I started thinking of a wedding, which then continued this mixture of joy and sorrow. As I say regularly, there have been hills and valleys in my life, some of which I’ve written about on this site. And, I imagine there will only continue to be hills and valleys. As it relates to relationships, though, this time of communing with God and with other believers just felt like a release. Yes, I want marriage, but I also know it’s not something that should define my life. Either way, the Lord will provide and sustain, and for that I can weep no more.