Dear Tears,

You have a lot of Divine reasons for being so present in my life. God has given me many painful presents, gifts which bring with them blessing and hurt, growth and pain.

Your appearance does not startle me anymore. You have spilled over into all aspects of my daily routine. Sometimes unexpected, so often just behind the curtains, never too far off.

Even when doing mundane things like opening the letterbox or going to the printing shop, you leave your trace.

As I slowly unpack my gifts from God, I wonder where to put these things that hurt so much. Which shelf is strong enough to carry all the pain? Which closet is big enough to store the largeness of these gifts? Which box is hidden enough so I can just every now and again forget about what's inside? Which drawer is low enough so I don't have to lift up this heavy weight?

And you, tears, flow over all these gifts. But there are times when you are so deep inside, I cannot pour you out. You’re locked in, waiting in silence. I know you’re still a part of my life, but you do not show yourself. I can't reach you, and I'm not sure what I prefer. Is it the constant flow of tears nearly impossible to control? Or the icy outside of the storm within, the harsh reality issuing instructions to carry on, regardless of the tears that won't flow?

I don't know. And I don't seem to choose. Sometimes you come, sometimes you don't. I learn to live both ways.

But tell me tears, can I rely on you to keep me close to God? To remember that indeed all gifts are from Him? You come from up there and then flow down, so can you remind me that it all comes from Up There?

Can you keep my connection with God flowing and smooth? As you roll down, can you take away some of my pain?

I realize that without you, I wouldn't be me; I couldn't grow into who I can be.

You can reflect anything I put into you. In the dark, you stay dark. But where there is light, you reflect rainbows of colors. Can a ray of hope really make you sparkle? Can a streak of trust make you shine? Can a flicker of love make you gleam? Can a flash of a smile make you glow? Can a drop of gratitude make you scintillate?

Dear tears, versatile as you are, from somewhere in the past or right here in the present, as you make your way into my life, and then out again, please make sure the trail you leave goes all the way up back to God, so that when I look at you, I can follow your flow. And I can remember where I come from, and where I'm going. And I can remember that everything that transpires is orchestrated by the Grand Gardener who will sometimes water me with tears, so that I can grow...