Do Not Weep

Tears on the edges of eternity

“As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.”” -Luke‬ ‭7‬:‭12‬-‭13‬

In over 30 years of preaching I’ve learned to not trust emotions as evidence of true spiritual birth, it’s only the water breaking.

Tears might be the sign that something living is about to emerge, but it’s not a guarantee. Only time will tell if a decision has been made in the will, not just the emotions. Has a choice been made reflecting being chosen? “Many are called, but few are chosen.” (Matt. 22:14).

I want to see people mobilized to action, not just moved by the message. Tears are often part of the process, but I’m looking for decisions born of serious revelation and contemplation.

Moments of transformation happen in the churning of the mind, will and emotions. When new creation is happening, the Spirit hovers over the chaos of the deep. It’s chaotic order and purposed separation is taking place between darkness and light. Old and new Creation emerges with angels singing and babies crying.

““Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?” -Job‬ ‭38‬:‭4‬, ‭7‬

I often witness singing and weeping as death loses its grip and resurrection life cracks open cold, dead souls.

Last night after preaching at a UGM chapel I had a woman crumble into my shoulder in sobs of uncontrollable weeping. She tried desperately to hold it all back but was powerless to constrain the emotions. She was embarrassed as her survival mode protections failed and the vulnerable heart inside silently screamed for breath. The soul must breathe and hard living is a suffocating decent. Souls being brought up from the dark depths often grasp light and life like the drowning. She clung to me like a life preserver cast into a tempestuous sea. I held her as her soul wretched out the turmoil.

Only Jesus can tell a woman that her time of weeping has come to an end. He alone holds the power to give life. Like a midwife we tend the transitions, but everything hangs in the balance.

These are the moments of chaos where death and life are difficult to discern. Are tears, gasps, grip, pain, and the tearing asunder signs of life being born or death roaring like a dragon!?!

I do not know, but in such moments I speak to God in prayer, my lips proclaim truth, my spirit cries in groans and faith strains into the fire seeking the evidence of life struggling to emerge.

It is apocalyptic.

The tears do not tell the ultimate truth, only time will confirm the victory or victim of these battles taking place on the edges of eternity.