I do not like tears…especially my own.
I’m well into my 50’s and have yet to get a handle on my tears. I tell others it’s because I inherited my father’s tear ducts. He could tear up with a simple, “Good morning, Pop” because he was so grateful for each day.
Airports are full of tears. One of the nice things for me about this Covid-19 stuff is that it has greatly reduced my travel. I don’t care much for the departure areas of airports because I walk past way too many people saying goodbye to loved ones. I try to not look because I know it’s going to be bad, but they capture me and suddenly I’m all caught up with emotion. It often takes me until the arrival gate to get over it because I get to see “happy tears” of loved ones reuniting.
Not long ago, I was visiting a friend who lives in an apartment. His windows were open and he has close neighbors. Suddenly, we heard a man sobbing. Something terrible had obviously happened and this poor unseen man was wailing. It was haunting. We, of course, had no idea who the person was nor the context of his cries. My friend shook his head feeling sad, but held it together. I, on the other hand, cried. I didn’t want to, I just did. A lot. I was embarrassed. I blamed my father.
One of the most attractive things for me when I consider heaven is that Jesus is going to wipe away all tears.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes,” Revelation 21:4 tells us, “and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”
I want to go there! What a wonderful, amazing, incredible, fantastic description of what heaven is like.
We constantly receive letters and emails from pastors and leaders in Latin America we are helping as well as from our ministry partners here in the U.S. We learn of their “tears” as they explain their trials and struggles and losses.
As I close this letter to you, however, I’d like to share an email we just received from Luis Alejandro Alvarado Dolly, one of our national missionaries in Peru. He was responding to an email sent from our very own “Grandma Carolyn,” telling him we were praying for him. His reply is simple and to the point and happy — like seeing a loved one at the arrival gate of an airport. It’s why together we work and give and serve the Lord here at LOGOI. His email simply said,
“Thank you, Abuela Carolina, for this precious prayer. I always need it. I am focused on my missionary travels in the Amazon rivers where I am using the Bible counseling courses I got from LOGOI. Thank you so much. May God bless you greatly. — Luis”
The holidays often seem to heighten our joy but can also heighten our sorrows and longings. Issues with the pandemic and politics certainly are not helping. Yet right now today, a national missionary using a dugout canoe to reach people in small villages along the Amazon River is joyfully telling others of a God who will wipe away all their tears — forever!
We get to pray for him and help him.
Those are happy tears!