Beads of Sorrow

It was a strange place. One like I had never seen before. I stood very quietly, right in the middle. Almost afraid to move, almost afraid the breath.

There were trees. All around. As far as I eye could see. Trees. I could see no light and felt no wind. Despite the seeming infinity of this strange forest, I felt as though I was locked in a dark, damp box.

I became slowly aware that light was in the room for how else would I have seen the trees? Carefully, I moved closer to a large pine on my right. There, suspended from each branch, each twig, each needle were little balls of water. It looked as trees often look after a shower or perhaps a heavy dew. The light was coming from each drop. Clear light. But painful. Somehow it made the darkness of the "forest" worse. Something in me revolted against those little beads of water. Something wanted to run from them. But that was irrational. So I moved closer.

Then I saw. And I shut my eyes. Everything in me began to scream. I felt my jaw clench convulsively and I began to feel the stab of pain from behind my eyes that always precludes tears. But I couldn't cry. And I couldn't scream. And I couldn't keep my eyes closed. Slowly they opened.

There, mirrored flawlessly in each little droplet of water was a person. I could see their life. I could see what they were doing. Thousands and thousands of dramas were being played out in front of my very eyes. I could see a little Chinese girl, and there, right next to her was an American grandma. Old, young, every nationality, every economic cast, every religion. They were all there. They all had one thing in common.

Crying.

They were all crying.

I could sit here and write every sorrow that I saw. I could detail the anguish that each soul felt. Standing there I seemed to absorb their hurt. You felt more in this forest, than I believe I had ever felt anywhere before. But writing every drama is not my job. I can't. There are too many. That's not my job.

Slowly I turned around.

I could see now. I saw the entire forest. Each tree hung with raindrops. Each raindrop filled with pain.

I think my knees gave out from under me. I don't really remember, because at that moment I heard something that I'll never forget.

A song. Though at first I was not even sure that's what it was. But it was soothing. Quiet.

And loving.

There was a man. He was slightly hunched and I could see deepening lines in his forehead. His hands were cupped and he was holding something. He turned toward me. I saw now, tears streaming down his face. And somehow those tears seemed so much stronger, more powerful, and deeper than the thousands I had just seen cried. He felt it more, because he love more. There in his hands he held a little bead of water. He was watching that one person. And he was crying.

I leaned closer.

It was me. He was crying as he looked in my tear drop. I remembered the agony I had just seen in others, and suddenly my tears, my pain, my fear- it all seemed rather inconsequential. But it still hurt. And he knew. He was crying for me. Something within me crumpled. I looked at his eyes and he smiled the smile that said, "I love you. I know. And I'm here. I'm all you need."

I laid my head on his shoulder and began to cry.

The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)