I am no stranger to tears

I am no stranger to tears
They travel with me across the oceans
From home to home and back again
They honor what is gained, and lost
They are a gift I give
To a bleeding, healing church
To a friend who lost a father and a living sister
To another who watches as a sister slowly dies and a mother loses herself
To all the saints who bear their own cross in faith
I am no stranger to tears
They are salve to deep cuts and festering wounds
In the darkness they flowed freely as I said goodbye
To one who no longer hears
Who’s face I can still see and who’s absence I can’t quite accept
They were an appropriate substitute for failed words, 
Too muddy and muddled, even here insufficient
They are an ode to what could have been and even should be, in me
I am no stranger to tears
They are a recognition of the cost being counted in our absences 
By mother and father, brother and sister
They are a battle cry for those chained 
In their own profaned desires and mangled concept of self
They accept the sunshine and rain alike
They are an oblation before the Lord in grief, and praise
I am no stranger to tears
I am no stranger to tears before the Lord
Before the Lord

Our time in the US is quickly coming to a close. I cannot express how thankful we are for this time with family and friends, old and new. We have been filled with fellowship, with the heavy joy of bearing each other’s burdens by walking together. The Church’s body is one, throughout the world, no matter the continent. She struggles and suffers, but the faithful rise purified and beautified through the fire. We are all soldiers in this spiritual war, powered, protected and prodded forward by our God’s steadfast, unchanging, unfailing, eternal, good love. May you know His presence today and be not afraid to offer your own salty sacrifice.