Tears don't come naturally to me.
I'm really not sure why that is or when it started, but I'm just not a person who cries much.
I have a dear friend who cries frequently. I joke that she cries enough for both of us.
But twice today I have been caught off-guard by dripping tears down my face.
One was turning in the kitchen to see Sam doing homework at the counter. Not a profound moment, I realize. But I remember blogging about his homework struggles at about this same time last year. In that brief glimpse of time, I saw how much he had matured since then. And I caught a picture of what I might be thinking at this time next year, when we are staring down the throat of high school graduation and, gulp, college.
So, as if one cry wasn't bad enough, as I sat down to catch up on some reading at my computer, my ears told me to stop and listen. Kate was sitting at the piano playing "My Favorite Things" from the Sound of Music. It had the pauses of a student learning a new piece, but chills came over me and, yes, tears streamed down my cheeks. One day, that piano will sit silent as my young girl becomes a young woman and leaves such things as piano lessons and her mother's heart in the dust.
Paul says that Love is patient.
Maybe that doesn't just mean that Love endures difficulties.
Maybe it also means that Love slows down to enjoy the moments of life that are too quickly fleeting. Some of those moments are hidden behind difficulties. Some are hidden behind dirty dishes. Pursuing Love might mean taking on the sometimes strenuous task of looking thoughtfully at the life God has graced me with and seeing Him at work in me and those around me.
And worshiping Him with my tears.