The Worth of Weeping

           I’m sitting in an almost vacant Starbucks on a rainy July (oh, Seattle) evening and the book I’m reading “A lifetime of Wisdom” by Joni Eareckson Tada contained the phrase “The worth of our weeping…” and it lept off the page. I am not currently at the “weeping stage” of grief over my hearing loss, but I’ve been there. In the midst of weeping it can be near impossible to see its worth—life can seem pretty futile in the darkest days of despair over loss. All you feel is pain, and it pours out, encompasses your thoughts and emotions. Maybe you’ve been there, are there, now. Presently so distraught, or even complacent, that you even start to despair that you’ll always despair. Death and disability aren’t light things; they change your life in a thousand inexplicable ways—forever.

                                 So, what’s the worth of weeping?

            Our culture calls men to “suck it up” and women to “get over it” leading to a vicious cycle of guilty grief. Others still champion catharsis—let it all out, as much as needed, anytime, anywhere. But neither of those options offer much hope, release, maybe, but not redemption. I believe the Bible, and Christ’s example in his suffering, are far superior.

            “Jesus wept” (John 11:35 ESV). Over the death of his friend, and probably in light of the pain it caused his living friends, Lazarus’ sisters, Mary and Martha. Even in the Garden of Gethsemane, before the cross, He cried out in anguish, real emotion, not stuffing it, but sharing it, with his Father. Grief is a good thing, part of life. We were created with emotions—to deny or suppress them and the flip side, to give yourself completely over to them—is to refuse a key aspect of humanity.

            In hindsight, I can already see the “worth of weeping” in my own life. Almost exactly two years after my loss, I was surprised to discover Christ already using my time of weeping to help me identify with a good friend who was going through one of the darkest seasons in their life—gut-wrenching grief and loss. In a sense, I had been there (not at all circumstantially, but in the dark grief), lifelong loss is a process. It changes you in every way. I was stunned by the realization that already Jesus was using my weeping in the lives around me. Even now, I can draw upon that season with a thankful heart. It allows me to identify with my Savior in ways I never could before.

                                    So, what is the worth of weeping?

            Can it be summed up? I think it is a facet of Paul’s word to the Corinthians that our “light and momentary suffering works for a more exceeding weight of glory” (2 Corinthians 4:17). Additionally, the gut wrenching grief and weeping-tears and snot flowing, sobbing, is a state of real emotion, honesty, transparency- not in spite of the pain but because of it. Once experienced it changes you—causes you to see the depth of pain and cultivates empathy. It also opens your eyes to Biblical passages on weeping because you can identify with them. Personally, weeping also caused me to look at grace in a new way—to see just how much I need from my Savior and how hard I can be on myself. All too easily I adopt the world’s standard for myself to “get over it”. Truth is, we never do “get over” lifelong loss—we get through it; daily, hourly. “Grief is a spiral”, as C.S. Lewis articulates, and it “feels so like fear” (A Grief Observed). But fear is an opportunity to trust—to entrust our uncertainties, our suffering, to Christ. He’s been there. He knows the worth of weeping; its necessity and the myriad of its rewards, that it really does carry with it an “eternal weight of glory”. Weeping’s worth is eternal and earthly pain often leads to heavenly longing; a yearning for Christ and his promises. Weeping is worth it.