Pass the Keenex

A young lady who is a news anchor for our local t.v. station recently wrote a blog about how she always cries at weddings, no matter whose, and pondered, "What's up with that?"

I had to laugh when I read her words. I'll admit, here and now, that I not only cry at weddings, I cry at EVERYTHING! You name it, I can find a reason to muster up the tears.

Just yesterday, I had a colossal boo-hoo watching "Celebrity Rehab" when McKenzie Phillips was feeding her dog ice cream right before it had to be put to sleep. Never met McKenzie and never knew the dog, but I ended up sobbing like it was my own puppy while that cute little pug lapped up the Hagen Daz!

You should SEE me trying to watch shows on TLC where people are having babies! Oh, my gosh...it's a real water works! The minute that baby pops into the world, the tears pop right out of my eyes.

The same thing can happen at church, concerts, holidays, birthdays, awards...you name it. The current Olympics are a great source of inspiration for a sob fest. I can just walk outside, look at the beauty of the sunlight on the snow and start to sniff. Watch out at the movie theater, too, because if there's a remotely sentimental moment, I'm going to begin to dribble! I lose alot of good arguments because I often end up in tears before I can get to my point. The bottom line is...I'm a weeper.

And you know what, I'm not all that ashamed of it. Oh, yea, it does create problems at times and certainly embarasses my kids to no end, but I can't truly say that, if given the choice, I would want to find a way to dry up.

So many of my more tearful moments have been times that I don't want to ever forget. Of course, I cried at my own wedding and at the birth of both my kids. I cried at my daddy's funeral...mama's, too, and most recently, as I said "see you later" while we spread my husband's ashes. When my children gave me my Valentine the other day, you better believe I teared right up. I can not tell you how many times I've sat beside my babies' cribs while they slept and cried silently at the overwhelming blessing God had given me in those two little miracles. Over and over, some of the most important, most memorable, most precious, most painful moments in my life have been accompanied with a flood of emotion, bathed in the warmth of those tears.

I don't think tears wash AWAY our feelings. I think they help them SINK IN! Maybe our tears are God's way of softening the sometimes hard edge of our emotions and allowing them to be absorbed and experienced and stored away, good or bad, for another day.

Modern society sometimes tries to convince us that we need to stay "cool" and not let our feelings get too out of control. We're supposed to compartmentalize experiences, process them like bills to be paid, and file them away neatly without losing our civilized and sophisticated veneer. On the other hand, we're also a society awash in heart disease, nervous disorders, therapists, life coaches, anorexia, addictions, and a zillion other danger signs that suggest stuffing our emotions into a box just might not be working!

More "primative" cultures just let it rip! They hoot, they hollar, they shout, they sing, they paint themselves in bright colors and leap and dance in the sunlight! Weddings are loud and joyful and last for days. Funerals are even louder and loved ones throw themselves on the casket and writhe in the grave dirt in agony. Young people becoming adults are celebrated and old people approaching the end are embraced as wise. Harvest times are reasons for a party. Natural disasters invoke a need to raise their arms to the heavens and shout.

When we are babies, our tears flow uncheck and uninhibited and unashamed. If we're hungry, we cry loudly to let the world know. If we want to be loved and hugged, we scream it out for all to hear. If we hurt or are cold or are just plain bored, as infants, we don't think twice about the tears that flow down our faces.

Yes, I'm a crier...and sort of proud to be. Nobody will ever second guess me and wonder if I FEEL something! I wear my emotions on my sleeve, but at least I wear them. You will always be able to look into my weepy eyes and know that I'm proud of you or that I hurt for you or that I love you passionately. I cry because I feel and because I cry, I KNOW what I feel.

Lest you think that I am somehow strange or out of touch, let me remind you of the shortest verse in the entire Bible: "Jesus wept." He cried. I cry. Don't think either one of us is too ashamed of that either.

Pass me a Kleenex and have a good cry with me.