Why do I think this, you ask? The answer is simply because I spent approximately 5 years of my late twenties carrying a box of tissues in my bag. (Well, not really, though I would have had extraneous fluids under control much more efficiently if I had.)
Now in my thirties, I am living in a space where all of those tears make sense because they did something unexpected: They revealed to me my true & real self. They opened my eyes to a higher calling. They got me out of the way for what God wanted all along--my Eternal Purpose. And I am beginning to understand that tears are never wasted. Tears reveal Truth.
So, why am I thinking about Truth and Eternal Purpose today?
Because I have recently returned from my sister-in-law-to-be's bridal shower, of course. (An obvious answer.) Allow me to explain: 
Today I drove myself over to Allentown to celebrate the soon-to-be-official inclusion of Kara into my family. There were many hugs, many smiles, many joyous hearts.
There were also many presents, containing many cards.
I sat near Kara, recording each and every gift into a little notebook, as a very diligent older sister and bridesmaid. Basically, I got a front-row seat to the gift-opening action.
I also got, however, a front row seat to this girl I love--the girl who won my heart before I even met her because I saw the reaction in the eyes of the boy I love when he talked about her. I forget what he said, but I remember how he looked. And I remember thinking "this is it..."
I had a front-row seat when she opened my card, and I had a front-row seat when she teared up over it. Then I lost a little bit of my view, because I teared up too. And I thought--How is it that God has been so good to us?
Because Kara fulfills the final daughter/sister slot in our family, and because Marisa has the other one similarly filled. Because: I couldn't ask for two better, sweeter, kinder, gentler, lovelier, beautiful on the inside and the out, caring women to share my family with.
Now (to get back to the story), up until this point there were only we women at the shower, and there was only a little bit of a tear in my eye. Enough to know that this was a special moment.
But then. In walked Dave. And in marched tears of the lip-quivering variety in the trying-to-keep-herself-together Lauren.
And I thought "HOW IN THE WORLD AM I GOING TO MAKE IT DOWN THE AISLE IN THIS BOY'S WEDDING?!", and re-lived for a moment my walking down the aisle in Keith's wedding (for which I was a lip-quivering mess, to the point where Dave had to look away and where Keith has not yet forgiven me for causing him to get emotional...)
So, on my drive home, after I got myself under control, and all the gifts were opened and loaded into a variety of cars, and hugs were given in multiple iterations, I called Heather. And I told her what happened. And I said "I don't understand--it's not like I was sad. It's not like I was even aware of being overly happy. I was just suddenly crying." And she said, with such shoulder-shrugging matter-of-factness that I felt slightly irresponsible for not figuring it out myself--
"Well, of course! You're a truth-crier."
There were also many presents, containing many cards.
I sat near Kara, recording each and every gift into a little notebook, as a very diligent older sister and bridesmaid. Basically, I got a front-row seat to the gift-opening action.
I also got, however, a front row seat to this girl I love--the girl who won my heart before I even met her because I saw the reaction in the eyes of the boy I love when he talked about her. I forget what he said, but I remember how he looked. And I remember thinking "this is it..."
I had a front-row seat when she opened my card, and I had a front-row seat when she teared up over it. Then I lost a little bit of my view, because I teared up too. And I thought--How is it that God has been so good to us?
Because Kara fulfills the final daughter/sister slot in our family, and because Marisa has the other one similarly filled. Because: I couldn't ask for two better, sweeter, kinder, gentler, lovelier, beautiful on the inside and the out, caring women to share my family with.
Now (to get back to the story), up until this point there were only we women at the shower, and there was only a little bit of a tear in my eye. Enough to know that this was a special moment.
But then. In walked Dave. And in marched tears of the lip-quivering variety in the trying-to-keep-herself-together Lauren.
And I thought "HOW IN THE WORLD AM I GOING TO MAKE IT DOWN THE AISLE IN THIS BOY'S WEDDING?!", and re-lived for a moment my walking down the aisle in Keith's wedding (for which I was a lip-quivering mess, to the point where Dave had to look away and where Keith has not yet forgiven me for causing him to get emotional...)
So, on my drive home, after I got myself under control, and all the gifts were opened and loaded into a variety of cars, and hugs were given in multiple iterations, I called Heather. And I told her what happened. And I said "I don't understand--it's not like I was sad. It's not like I was even aware of being overly happy. I was just suddenly crying." And she said, with such shoulder-shrugging matter-of-factness that I felt slightly irresponsible for not figuring it out myself--
"Well, of course! You're a truth-crier."
A truth-crier. A felled-by-moments-of-absolute-beauty crier. An acknowledgement-that-Eternal-Purpose-is-happening-here crier. Higher calling, and all of that.
Happening in this marriage, happening in this building of a family, happening. Here. A Crier of Truth.
Sometimes tears come from a place that we'd rather not be in, and sometimes tears come and take us by surprise. Sometimes there is so much love, tears become our only possible response.
What just might make it magical, however, is that tears come to tell us:
What just might make it magical, however, is that tears come to tell us:Truth is crying.
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