(Psalms 56:8) Thou tellest my wanderings: put thou my tears into thy bottle: are they not in thy book?
The pain I felt was unbearable, and with every passing moment it grew swelling within me to the point of overflowing. My best friend was lost to me now, not through death or distance, but through salvation.
“Jesus is just gonna make you change,” he screamed. “And if you’re gonna give your life to him, I’m gone!” and with that he stormed out of my life forever. Now I sit here with my head in my hands contemplating how to go on, and slowly the tears begin to fall. Never had I dreamed that salvation would be this hard, if this is what I have to go through is it really worth it I wondered.
“I feel your tears my son.”
I heard the voice of God so clear and calm speaking directly to me, and for a moment it made me angry.
“How can you know how I feel, if you really cared you would not have let him leave. How can you feel my tears?”
In that moment everything around me changed, and the confines of my small room were transformed into a place unlike any I had ever seen. Here, all of the walls where lined with shelves, shelves that literally seemed to reach the sky and went on as far as the eye could see. Every shelf was filled with small vials containing some clear liquid; they were labeled with words which upon further inspection read things like, “Dad walks out” and “Baby’s death.” I picked up a bottle on a shelf which was labeled “Marcus James”.
“Lord what is this” I asked, curiously.
“What does it say?”
I read the bottle and it said “The best that I can”.
“Open it.” said the Lord
As I uncorked the top, immediately I felt despair deeper than I could ever imagine. All of my thoughts of my lost friend disappeared and I could see this man, Marcus James. He lived in a housing project with his five little girls. Things were hard, but they only got worse with the death of his wife last summer. Now working double shifts at the plant during the week, he can barely keep food on the table and clothes on the girls back. With more of his wife medical bills coming everyday and talks of lay offs at the plant, he struggles with thought of confusion, not knowing what to do next. At night, when he comes home between shifts he sits watching his girls sleep and he cries, what I now know to be these tears, proclaiming God I am doing the best that I can. I felt every bit of his pain and I cried with him.
As I replaced the bottle, I tried to speak but was immediately ushered to another shelf. This one had my name on it and as I examined the bottles that rested there, for every time I could ever remember shedding a tear there was a bottle filled with my liquid pain.
“Lord how is this possible?”
With that question, I felt a hand touch my shoulder and I turned to see Jesus standing there. I immediately fell at the feet of my savior, but he lifted me up with His loving arms. In His hand He held a vial labeled “Goodbye to my best friend”. He uncorked the top and held it beneath His eyes capturing a few of the tears that flowed from them
“It is possible my son, because every tear you cry, I cry with you.”
I fell into His arms sobbing and proclaim how sorry I was that I had ever doubted the depth of His love. There in His presence I felt so relieved, so secure, so forgiven. When I opened my eyes I was back in the familiar settings of my room, but in my heart I remained in His arms just a little longer. Never again would I question if He understands my pain, I know that for every tear I cry there is a bottle filled with tears He is crying for me.