Years ago a traumatic event dried up my tears. They no longer flowed. Not even during a tear-jerker of a film. I don’t remember the movie; I only remember I was the only one in the theater not crying over the death of the main character. Chris’s psychotic episode had left me emotionally numb. As if my heart had turned to stone.
That was so unlike me. I used to be and still am a crying machine. Had I lived in biblical times, I would have been hired to be a wailer (someone paid to cry at funerals)!
I love the verse which assures me that God notices every tear drop. “You number my wanderings; Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?” [Psalm 56:8 (NKJV)].
Referring to that verse, I once told my pastor, “I’m glad God puts my tears in a bottle.”
“For you, Vicki He uses a pool!” He knew I excelled at weeping.
Undoubtedly, I’m not the only mom raising a child with mental illness (MI) who’s experienced a major change in emotions. Sometimes crying ends because there just aren’t enough tears to make it better. Other times we’re afraid to cry. We fear that one tear will release an ocean of emotions—a tsunami of tears. We worry we’d completely fall apart. So we put a plug on our tears. Staying in control at all cost, is the name of the game – even if that’s not healthy for us.
Crying is a necessary part of our own emotional healing. We have to move along in our grieving process. But do we dare open the flood gates? Who will help us?
My stone-cold heart softened in the hands of God. I pictured myself as clay in my Father’s hands and allowed Him to mold me into a healed version of myself.
Isaiah 63:8 provides the beautiful picture of our Father’s care.
“Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.”
Imagine our loving Potter reshaping us after we’ve been wounded. Picture comfort pouring from His hands like a salve.
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
He comforted me, removed the torment of bad memories, and healed my broken heart. Was it easy? No. Was it scary? Yes. Did God help me overcome the trauma of my son’s psychotic episode? Yes!
And He’ll do it for you.