Tears Of Mercy

You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?

The tension I’ve been carrying squeezes the muscles in my shoulders, causing a throbbing headache. As I drive down the road with the kids in the back of the car, I’m lost in a myriad of thoughts—What am I going to make for dinner tonight? How much longer till bedtime? Why is this season so hard?—when my oldest shouts excitedly from the back seat, breaking my ruminations.

“Mom! Did you know butterflies drink turtle tears?” he asks in amazement.

All day I’ve been on the brink of crying. My husband has been traveling more frequently for work, and the stress of caring for three children while also working feels like a load of bricks I’m constantly carrying. Instead of letting the tears flow, I bottle them up in an attempt to keep them out of sight, deep in the recesses of my heart. I feel their persistent presence, but I ignore their need to be acknowledged.

“No, buddy, I’ve never heard that,” I say, tucking this odd little fact into my mind and turning left onto our street.

Later that evening, after the kids are in bed and the last dirty dishes are loaded, I grab my laptop and do a quick internet search. To my surprise, there is a whole sermon hidden in this little fact my son has shared.

I learn that deep in the recesses of the Amazon rainforest, butterflies drink turtle tears for essential sodium and minerals. In turn, the turtles get their eyes cleaned.^a Which begs the question: Why are turtles crying in the first place? Researchers note that turtles “cry” to moisten their eyes and clean them from dirt.^b As I consider the tender way God cares for his creation, my eyes begin to burn with my own salty, bottled-up tears. If God provides for butterflies in the Amazon rainforest through the tears of turtles, how much more must he provide relief, healing, and hope for my own tears, even the ones I try to suppress and hide?

I’ve always found great comfort in King David’s honest words in Psalm 56. Deep in the recesses of Gath, when he was being pursued by the Philistines, he penned a plea for mercy. Even as he cried for rescue, David found comfort in God’s Word and his ever-present help. He clung to the promise that God saw his fear, weariness, and grief. He believed God wouldn’t waste a single one of his tears; rather, he’d tenderly collect them in a bottle (see Psalm 56:8).

Just think—God, the Creator of the universe, not only provides for butterflies’ needs through the tears of turtles, but he also notices every tear that falls from our eyes, including the ones we bottle up inside that need to fall. He is not unaware of our afflictions or aloof to them; instead, he draws near in the midst of them (see Psalm 34:18).

I finally give space to release the tears I’d been suppressing all day, knowing the Lord gives me strength for each day (see Deuteronomy 33:25). Someday when he comes to dwell with us forever in the new heavens and new earth, he will wipe away every tear, eradicate every fear, loosen every knotted shoulder, and unfurrow every brow (see Revelation 21:4). The old will pass away and the new will come, never to be undone.

Until then, we cry out to him for help, healing, and wholeness, because our tears are not spilled in vain—they are reminders of our reliance on our Maker.

Word before World God notices every tear that falls and draws near in your brokenness.

Grow in Grace Take note of what makes you cry (or makes you feel like you need to cry). Instead of suppressing your tears, let them fall before the Lord, and surrender your heartache to him.