Tears

I’ve been crying quite a bit lately. It feels rather uncomfortable…but I’m adjusting. Growing up in a stoic Scandinavian home had a good side (we’re persistent and tough) but also a not-so-good side (we gloss over, hide, or even ignore our deepest feelings…particularly about tough issues).

My home was a place of love, but we did not talk about hurt or pain or disappointment. So early on I learned to cry alone - usually in the shower – so my tears would not be seen or heard. I learned to put on a good face, and to keep going no matter how hard things seemed. When my dad died, my mom did not cry…even though she had just lost her best friend and soul mate after more than 40 years of marriage. She simply pressed on, like she always did. Needless to say, when my mom died a few years later I did not cry (at least not much, and certainly not in front of others).

So over the years I learned to carry my pain alone, stuffing my deepest emotions as if they were a problem or hindrance.  

The great lie is that I thought this was healthy, because outwardly it appeared that I had my emotions under control. Sadly, I was blind to the damage this was doing to my own soul, raising my internal anxiety. Furthermore, my seeming lack of empathy and/or sympathy at times made others feel as if I did not truly care about them and their problems.   

Bruce is joining me in this journey, however it is somewhat easier for him because he did not grow up “stuffing” feelings. We have had several tearful conversations recently as we process the losses of the past ten years: deaths in the family, major bumps in the road for our kids, ministry challenges…. 

Expressing the deep emotions associated with these losses has not been easy, but it has been good. As I work through the moments of pain, tears can lighten my load and bring healing. I am thankful that my tears allow God’s Spirit to bring comfort to my soul.


- Julie