|My personal tear dabbers ready for duty.|
That way of crying joy-- I felt so right in the right place at the right time. That way of crying rest-- exhaustion lost its battle to keep me in and away from community. That way of crying prayers-- that I already know the answers too, even the ones flesh did not reveal. Seeping.
Just keeping the corners of my eyes wet. Not dripping. No need to unfold one of the freshly starched and ironed hankerchiefs within reach from my purse. Just damp. Layer upon layer evaporating to make room for more dampness of worship. Seeping.
That's my sacrifice of praise. This will be the only explanation. There will no longer be an apology. May our seeping cries populate the heavenlies with glory due God's name and refresh our souls, again. This Lenten season and beyond.