Oct 24 - Psalm 6:6

I am worn out from sobbing.

Every night tears drench my bed;

my pillow is wet from weeping.

Psalm 6:6

Have you ever had seasons of weeping?

Are you weeping now, in this season?

Why do we cry? Besides the wonderful happy tears and the sweet sentimental stirrings, I can think immediately of three primary reasons for "worn out ... sobbing."

·       Pain: Dropping a hammer on your toe can produce a cartoonish-flood of tears.

·       Worry and Fear: When waiting for biopsy results or wondering where our lost child is, worry and fear swamp us.

·       Change, Loss, and Grief: This is the one I want to address today. In fact the pattern of change and loss reveals many of the tears and much of the despondency that we can't quite explain in our lives. He's the pattern ...

Every change brings loss.

And every loss brings grief.

Read that again, and let it sink in. Every change -- even good change -- brings a loss of something. And that's where much of our heart-ache comes from in life.

Imagine, for example, that Mary Louise and I were offered a deal on a great house. Everything was significantly better about it than our current house -- better neighborhood, better floor plan, better price, nicer, newer, wonderful. And so we move and get settled ... and yet something is gnawing at us. We're frustrated. Unexplainably unsettled and sad.

What's wrong? Something changed.

Maybe we're five minutes further from the church. (Change!) Maybe we drive on different roads and shop at different stores because they’re now closer. (This causes a change in pattern.) We love our new neighbors, but we miss the regular contact with a few old friends. (Change.) And even though that old house might have potentially left a lot to be desired, we still miss that old comfortable familiarity. It's like we said goodbye to a season and some memories. (Change.)

Ninety-five percent of our move is objectively better. We're mostly excited. Thrilled, in fact! And we'd feel guilty, ungrateful, about even mentioning any frustration. Nevertheless, has any five-percent change and loss ever snuck up on you? You’re frustrated and can’t explain why.

Yes, we know a hundred percent change (the loss of a spouse) causes grief, but does this view on small changes explain any of the unsettledness and heart-ache you’ve been feeling?

It time (as David did in this Psalm), when we’re aware of our grief, we ought to simply go back to God and cry, "Have compassion on me, Lord, for I am weak. Heal me ..." God is not only the healer, but he's the constancy that never has to leave. And when we make our home in him, then it's less about where we live and less about our changeable situations and more about his unchangeable permanency.

In Christ's Love,

a guy who doesn't

have a pillow full of tears

(my pillow's full of goose feathers

and my life is full of hope

because my pillow’s in my home,

and my home is in him)