The Tears That Cost Me

 

I sat with my friend Ana and cried as I shared the pain I was in…the painful mirror that leadership demands you to look into. The pain of saying yes to His Kingdom come, and His will be done, knowing all it will cost. The pain of processing incredibly hard, vulnerable, exposing things. The pain of my healing…The pain of leaving a place that has become home in order to go squad lead…

 

And when I was done crying for what felt like “too long,” she said to me “I want you to feel it all, Jackie. It’s what makes it worth it.”

 

She didn’t tell me to get ahold of myself. She didn’t tell me that it wasn’t that big of a deal. She allowed my emotion to propel me toward Christ. 

 

A lot of times I feel like there is an expiration date for brokenness. Have your moment, cry your tears, and then pull your britches up and move on. We’re told that its the strong thing to do…but actually, we’re cheapening pain, and in turn we’re cheapening our healing. 

 

If tears were cheap to Jesus He would have turned Mary of Bethany away when she wept at His feet. But instead He said that it was her tears that anointed Him before His death. 

 

And it cost her everything. 

 

She broke her jar of inheritance knowing the inheritance to come was richer. She threw down what she could tangibly hold onto, in order to take hold of something far greater…and He welcomed it. He delighted in it. He honored it. Because Jesus knew the cost of feeling. 

 

If He didn’t feel the pain of the cross, it wouldn’t have been worth it. It wouldn’t have been a sacrifice. But His pain of death made His power in resurrection that much greater- because He knew what it took to get there. 

 

He said “You can’t kill me. I willingly lay down my life on my own accord.” 

 

When we’re willing to die, its because we know its worth it. And the resurrection is the celebration of knowing what it took to get there. Looking it dead in the face, seeing the promise up ahead, and going head on.  

 

I don’t know what Mary’s tears were. I don’t know her pain. I don’t know what she was feeling…but I do know that those tears which prepared Him for burial rested in her hair that she used to wipe His feet…and I think she knew that those tears were preparing her for burial as well…she knew He was worth following anywhere- even unto death. 

 

My tears are costing me. And they’re anointing me. And they’re wrapping me up in grave cloth…and I know He is coming for me.