Pouring

Perhaps the ancient flood of Noah was really God’s tears. The heavens that had not rained finally let the tears of God seep through the cloudy layer, the heavens ripped open and unveiled the heart of God, broken for his good creation, broken for the evil that was in the world.

Heavens ripped again in Abraham’s pleading for Sodom and Gomorrah. Heart of God in his servant's mouth. Abraham far underestimated the grace of God. Abraham, bold but quivering, heart beating, heavy and burdened, cries, “For fifty will you save?” And God readily agrees. Was Abraham surprised? God did not bargain up, concede for a hundred. So Abraham trembling proposed forty-five granted. Forty, granted. Abraham, wide eyed, astounded at the grace, continues in amazement. Thirty? Twenty? Ten—even ten, Lord, Righteous Judge? Yes, even for the sake of ten the God who is rich in mercy (Eph. 2:4) would delay judgment. God’s tears in the pleading of Abraham.

Lamentations splits open with tears, “Look, O LORD, for I am in distress; my stomach churns; my heart is wrung within me, because I have been very rebellious” (Lam. 1:20). Words inspired the Spirit of God himself, put in the words of people, the heart of God forming the heart of his people. His words to give words to their grief. His tears, their tears."Arise, cry out in the night, at the beginning of night watches! Pour out your heart like water before the presence of the Lord! Lift your hands to him for the lives of your children who faint for hunger at the head of every street" (Lam. 2:19).

The God of the fiery throne sends his words in visions, God’s tears in Isaiah, “In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them; in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; he lifted them and carried them all the days of old” (Isa. 63:9).

God’s tears in Jeremiah, “Oh that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people….. But if you will not listen, my soul will weep in secret for your pride; my eyes will weep bitterly and run down with tears because the Lord’s flock has been taken captive” (Jer. 9:1; 13:17).

God’s tears in Daniel, “Then I turned my face to the Lord God, seeking him by prayer and pleas for mercy with fasting and sackcloth and ashes. I prayed to the Lord my God and made confession, saying, ‘O Lord, the great and awesome God, who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments…’” (Dan. 9:3-4).

God’s tears in Ezra and Nehemiah. “’The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.’ As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven” (Neh. 1:3b-4).

God mourned, and placed his heart in the heart of his people.His servants. Their heart beat with his, their souls ached with his.

But greater yet, “And when Jesus drew near and saw the city, he wept over it” (Luke 19:41).

Jesus wept.

Strong words. It is easy to read over them. But the happy, blessed God is also the weeping God who is afflicted with—and for--us. He is the God who wept with them, who extended mercy beyond imagination because of his great love.
Pause.
God is weeping. 

With you.

For you.

Because of you
and still loves you.

Over the persecution in the world, the pride of your husband, the court results, the pile of unpaid bills, the pain that racks your body, God cries. We meet the God of compassion, we know his mercy, we find his comfort of Immanuel, God with us, the high priest who was tempted as we are in every way.

And knowing this God will we turn ourselves outward to the broken, lift our eyes beyond ourselves, leave the doors, lift up our hands, orient our souls to the outside?! Oh, Father, Spirit, give me the heart of Jesus! Give me your heart. Let my heart break with what breaks yours. Let my tears be your tears. May I be burdened with what bowed your shoulders as you climbed up to Calvary!My God, my God, I have not your love, not your passion, not your heart. You poured yourself out on the cross; I am content in my comfort. My God, forgive me!

Forgive me, Lord, the Father of all mercies and the God of all comfort (2 Cor. 1:3), when suffering turns me in on self. When I use it as en excuse to look after self and not love. I lift my eyes and I see the Father who opens his hand to all, God who is the sun (Ps. 84) pouring out, the Son who is the Vine from which life flows, the Spirit who is living water pouring forth. The blood pouring forth, the life giving, the generous God who turns out. My Jesus, by your Spirit lift my head, wipe my eyes, turn my eyes out, my feet out, my hands out, my heart out to the lost and the weak and the outsiders. May I be exactly where you would be today if you were in Adrian in 2016. May your tears be my tear, and your joys be my joys.

Let us know your mercy, poured out so freely. Knowing God’s mercy, will we shoulder the mantle of the kingdom of priests that we are called to be (2 Pet. 2:9; Rev. 1:6; 5:10)? Will we weep for the broken families, the children in court custody, the homeless? And will we weep with them? Not just for, but with?

And we will hear the heart of God. As we let our heart be broken and pour it out, he will pour into us, through us. His tears, running into a river of life. Close, him in us. Close, him in those we serve.