A heavy heart is born of a broken relationship, but for the Christ follower the heart gives way to lament and the soul releases tears mingled with joy. The promise of Joy in the Morning. Joy in the Mourning is sure and true just as the Word made flesh.

Those moments when my heavy heart cannot carry any more, my mind shed letters that fall into words rolling into sentences that strive to sooth this brokenness in my soul.  Sometimes those moments just fall words, jumbled and jagged. Yet, here I am at this clickety keyboard, listening to flowing music with words of God mixed with the half and whole steps, and looking at what pictures will fit with this topic.

Where are the broken heart images? Where is the lamenting soul photos? Where are the tears that soak the pillow all night long in pictures? My camera missed them. But my heart catches glimpses of this in these relationships in this life of holy and harm.

Life, living, is always and ever about relationships. Sometimes the closest relationships you can have the leave the heart heaving and tears streaming. Those souls that you hold holy inside you can break your heart more than anyone, anything ever could. And, yet, they make your heart soar higher than you ever thought possible. A heavy heart is born of a broken relationship, but for the Christ follower the heart gives way to lament and the soul releases tears mingled with joy. The promise of Joy in the Morning. Joy in the Mourning is sure and true just as the Word made flesh.

A family dear to my church and friends laid to rest their 18 year old daughter. I have left the meditating of it far from me. I’m too busy to consider what they feel. I’m carrying too much to feel the weight of eternity. I’m not ready to think of loss. Particularly, that loss. The loss of your child you hold holy inside.

My daughter was 18 over a decade ago. She’s married in her own rainy city leaving this desert land behind. My oldest son was 18 just a few years ago. He’s still so young. His experiences make him feel older than he is. My middle son will be 18 in a few short moments. And then I stop.

Eighteen is not that long on this earth, in this life, with mommas and daddies and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents and friends and relationships. And all the living left to do in this world full of holy and harm. Full of grace and sin.

My family understands the loss of a young daughter. I grew up never knowing her, but knowing of her. I felt the lament my mom hid behind years of making coffee and ignoring her birthday, her sister’s death day. And we still learn of the stories my mom has hidden holy within her hurting heart.

This world of sin and evil only offers loss, death, brokenness. A heavy heart is born of a broken relationship, but for the Christ follower the heart gives way to lament and the soul releases tears mingled with joy. The promise of Joy in the Morning. Joy in the Mourning is sure and true just as the Word made flesh.

This family saying goodbye to their daughter of 18 will grieve through this temporal space. Their lament will be turned to joy. For they know, this momentary affliction prepares them deep within their soul for an eternal weight beyond anything this world can copy. They shed tears knowing their joy will scream through all eternity. And their daughter can’t wait to show them what is to come.

But now, tears fall. Momma has to go through personal papers and treasures. My grandma found my aunt’s diary. My aunt wrote of her own death. Grandma’s heart tore open again, but hope filled the holes. She knew that her life wasn’t in vain. To this day, this story impacts my children who passed 18 into adulthood. But the tears fall with every bringing out of that diary. A heavy heart is born of a broken relationship, but for the Christ follower the heart gives way to lament and the soul releases tears mingled with joy. The promise of Joy in the Morning. Joy in the Mourning is sure and true just as the Word made flesh.

This dear family will read words their daughter wrote in her confusion, her sickness, her faith, her hope, her life. Words puddle into sentences to soothe the brokenness of their souls.

God spoke a Word into this sinful world of loss, death, brokenness. The Word became flesh. The Word was the light of mankind. The Word is Life.

Jesus lamented over broken relationships, brokenness of the soul. In the garden, knowing he was to die, to be separated from the Father, from love, he was sorrowful and troubled, grieved. On the cross, with loss and death all around him, tears flowing from joy of the soldiers and sadness of the disciples, he cried out to God. Why, God, have you forsaken me? Why even this relationship needs broken?

And we all cry out to God when our hearts overwhelm with sorrow. Why, God, have you forsaken me?

Where is God’s presence? Where is God’s goodness? His hesed? His Grace?

A heavy heart is born of a broken relationship, but for the Christ follower the heart gives way to lament and the soul releases tears mingled with joy. The promise of Joy in the Morning. Joy in the Mourning is sure and true just as the Word made flesh. The Word made Alive.

Our natural sin state ends in death, in the tomb. Joy cannot exist in the destruction of life. Only grief, only sorrow, only mourning. The tomb silently consumes all life like a black hole consuming all living, breathing souls. There is no joy in death. Only sorrow.

There is only joy in life. In that tomb, a heart began beating and lungs breathing. This embodies the presence of God, his life for our life eternal, and the character of God, his hesed towards us.

The empty tomb and risen body are the only justification for lament: tears mingled with joy. The death of death brings life eternal. And joy unending.