Well, this here ain't that kind of post. I was going to to do that, but as my Pentecostal, Holy Ghost-filled and fire-baptized 82 year old Grandma would say, "God has other plans."
On my blog, East of Eden, and it's forerunner, Far Above Rubies, I've made no secret of my ongoing health problems, specifically in dealing with peripheral neuropathy. If you don't know what that is, neither did I, until my neurologist told me I have it back in 2009. By the end of 2011, it had gotten so bad, I wound up in the hospital for two weeks, and in April 2012, I had to resign my job (in this economy!). Stress is deleterious to my condition, and I've spun downward in the wake of my sister's death in November. So, long story short, I've been doing more than my fair share of crying lately.
In Psalm 56, David is dealing with his own stressful struggles. He is at war with the Philistines, and things weren't going so well. He writes repeatedly of being "trampled" by his enemies. He is oppressed and in fear, and turns to God with his burdens. Verse eight is especially moving: "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book." The imagery is powerful. God does not only know of David's pain, but every single incident is notable, and every tear is kept.
Reading that verse, I'm reminded of the glass bottles of immunoglobin (IG) I use weekly as part of the therapy to treat my neuropathy. Once a month I get a box of meds and IV kits, including the IG. They are stored in the back shelf of the fridge until use. To the naked eye, they look like little bottles of clear water, but they are invaluable to me, the difference between being able to care for myself and family or being bedridden. Yet, as priceless as the IG is to me, to God, our tears... our tears... are even more precious.
One of the most frustrating effects of having peripheral neuropathy is the fall risk. My sense of balance is off, as are my coordination and sense of feeling, especially in my feet and legs. A few months back, I almost fell while waiting for a grande skim slated caramel mocha at Starbucks. God must've sent an angel round 'bout me, because of landing flat on my butt, I wound up catching the ledge of a counter, did a little pivot and landed squarely on both feet. It was all so smooth, no one was the wiser, not even the girl standing behind me. David writes in verse thirteen: "For You have delivered my soul from death, Indeed my feet from stumbling, So that I may walk before God In the light of the living." Aha! So even King David didn't like falls (but then who does?). What this verse speaks of is far greater than just temporal physical stumbles, though. God promises us the ultimate deliverance, so that like David, we will be able to walk boldly before Him in everlasting life.
So whether it be bottles of tears, or immunoglobin, I'll choose as David did, to not fear, but to praise God.
Alisha De Freitas