I am not sure what the problem is, but I seem to be crying an awful lot lately. Tears of sorrow. Tears of joy. Tears of awe. Tears of grief. Tears of gratitude. I need to keep a big bunch of tissues handy at all times because I swear I never know when I am going to start snuffling. And this isn't just a couple of moist eyes. This isn't the discreet glassy look that happens to some folks. This is great big salty tears rolling down my cheeks and ending up splattered all over the continental shelf that is my chest.
Today in Lectio Divina, it happened yet again. I joked as it started, telling my fellow contemplatives that I am going to start bringing Puffs Plus with Aloe because the chinzy toilet paper I was using to sop up the waterworks is making my nose raw.
Is it Holy week? The death of my sister in law? The trip to Vietnam? God whacking me upside the head with the Holy two by four of Christ? I don't know. I just know I am very raw and right at the surface and when I start to get a sense of God's presence I just can't hold 'em back.
Lectio Divina was incredible today. We had a new friend join us. The gospel was Jesus showing up and letting Thomas feel his wounds. This gospel says TWICE that Jesus showed up even though the door was closed and locked for fear. What a miracle that is. Even when we slam the door shut, he is there. He did that for me. He has done it for others in the Lectio group. I wonder if he has done that with you, too? As I sat and thought about the fact that for decades, I was in the desert of my own life, with the door to Jesus firmly closed, and yet he was still there, I just could not hold back the tears.
Thank you, God. Thank you. What wondrous love is this? Oh my soul.
And thank you, too, Lord,for my fellow travelers. When we gather, you are there.