Psalm 30:5 (NIV) says:
For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Weeping may stay for the night…It’s night because we are weeping.
We are weeping because we are overwhelmed at the volume of sickness and death we see on television. We are weeping because we have an elderly loved one or an immunocompromised loved one in our family and are afraid that they might contract the disease. We are weeping because those loved ones are contracting COVID-19, getting sick, and dying. We are weeping because we cannot hug at funerals and must sit six feet apart from the people we need the most while grieving.
We are weeping because our “normal” has been radically altered. We are weeping because we are afraid of our financial future. We are weeping because we are tired of Zoom calls in a makeshift home office. We are weeping because our children are stressed out with Non-Traditional Instruction, looking to us as parents and guardians to teach facts and figures we long forgot.
We are weeping because we miss our loved ones. We are weeping because we miss the touch of our parents and grandparents whom we have to interact with through screen doors and windows and on side walks six feet apart. We are weeping because we can’t stop at Mom and Dad’s or Mamaw and Papaw’s for a hug and warm meal. We are weeping because it’s grilling season and we cannot sit down over a burger or dog while watching the Final Four or Opening Day. We are weeping because we miss seeing our friends at worship.
We are weeping because we see so many essential medical workers weeping. God bless the medical workers across the world.
Finally, we are weeping because we are overwhelmed. Too much uncertainty, too much pain, too much heartache. We are weeping because we hunger for normal. We are weeping because we don’t know when all of this will end.
I woke up this morning weeping. For whatever reason, the load finally got to me. The load of everything I listed above along with shepherding so many who feel the same way. I found myself wanting to curl up in a ball, withdraw, and cry. I am weeping.
We are not alone in our weeping.
Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus. Jesus’ followers wept when they saw him beaten and nailed to the Cross. The women who followed Jesus wept as Jesus slowly died a criminal’s death. Jesus’ mother wept as she saw him breath his last breath. The whole world turned dark and wept as Jesus died. I can imagine Joseph of Arimathea wept as he laid Jesus’ broken and bloodied body in the Tomb. The Disciples hid and wept. Mary wept when she couldn’t find the body of Jesus.
11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot.
13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”
“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there… (Jn 20:11–14, NIV)
“Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”
Paul is the husband to Tara, father to Natalie and Isaac, has an average jump shot, and enjoys running. His secret wish is to one day become a Jedi Knight. Paul holds a doctorate in marriage and family counseling from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and currently serves as senior pastor of Harrodsburg Baptist Church. Paul desires to help young couples navigate the early crucibles of marriage, especially when one or both of the spouses are engaged in vocational ministry.
Tara wears several hats; wife to Paul, Mom to Natalie and Isaac, Physical Therapist by day, and Noonday Collection ninja at night. Tara cares deeply about helping other women understand their true identities and developing their relationships with Christ. Tara likes to read, cook, and learn about all things Disney.