The tracks of my tears

Dad died suddenly on a sunny August morning.

There had been no warning.

He’d been ill for years but we weren’t expecting to lose him.

As we left the place where he’d drawn his final breaths, the blue sky and sunshine seemed to mock us. We wanted to scream what had happened to the people passing, going about their business. And the tears started. Sometimes it feels as if they’ll never stop.

You see this wasn’t the first death that had occurred in our family. In fact it was the fourth in four months. We had lost key figures in our lives. A dearly loved Grandad, and three parents. These weren’t minor losses they were huge.

And as I looked at our family, especially our children, just last week, as we sat in the garden having a barbecue, I thought, “It’s too much sadness for one family.”

How much can one family take? How much can I take if it comes to that?

We know where our loved ones are now. We believe that Jesus has taken them Home to rest. But the pain of parting feels like a weight in my chest. Sometimes I cry so hard I can’t breathe. And my mind struggles to process the fact that I won’t see them again in this life.

I picked up my Bible a few days ago. This isn’t a rare occurrence, but it was a deliberate action as I wanted something, anything from God. I couldn’t feel Him. I struggled to hear His voice. I trusted Him, but I was a bit cross with Him as well.

I started at Psalm 62 and worked backwards.
They were comforting words and they helped a little.

These however, stopped me in my tracks,

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” Psalm 56:8 (NLT)

God, my Father, traces the tracks of my tears. He collects my tears in a bottle.

Who knows? Maybe he uses them to put the sparkle in a new-born baby’s eyes.

Nothing is ever wasted.

He knows.