It started with an innocent visit to the dermatologist…a yearly skin check-up to make sure that my Scandinavian cancer-prone skin was healthy. As I perched tentatively on the edge of the doctor’s chair, ready for the Awkward Freckle Check that was about to ensue, the nice dermatologist lady took a look at me and kindly asked,
“Are we doing anything about that acne?”
Well, doctor. It’s nice to see you, too.
After taking a millisecond to blink hard and remember that it’s her job to be nosy about my skin, I sputtered a response: “Um, well, we were…but then it cleared up so I stopped taking the medication. And then I think I maybe got stressed or something and it came back???”
She looked at me gently, tilted her head to one side, and asked her question in a kind way that made me feel like I was on a cozy counselor’s couch rather than in a sterile, freezing doctor’s office: “Are you stressed?”
And all of a sudden I felt my eyes sting with tears.
Right there, in the middle of a freezing dermatologist’s office, right there in the middle of what should be a restful summer, right there in the middle of the day, my eyes were throwing fast threats that they were about to Leak.
And so I did what any normal person would do.
I swallowed hard and sent up a hail-Mary prayer of “Jesus, I promise we can talk about this later, but for real…please help me not cry here.” I then proceeded to nod diligently at her acne advice. I cracked jokes for the rest of the appointment to ensure that I could laugh away any potential for more Leaking. And after the appointment, I buzzed out of that office right quick. I swiftly responded to a phone call to a colleague. I ran a litany of errands. I did my best to forget the Terrible Leaking Threat.
I hadn't thought that I was stressed. I hadn't thought there was anything that I particularly needed to tend to within myself. But then again, I think that's the beauty and grace of Leaking. It helps your mind catch up with what your body and soul already know.
Three wise folks in my life have taught me three wise things about those pesky moments of Leaking (which admittedly sometimes manifests as a Waterfall, but the same truths still apply...):
1. Tears are good. They are my body’s natural way of responding and I should let them out. Don’t get mad at them; don’t say “I don’t have time to cry,” don’t view them as a sign of weakness. They are natural, good, and needed for all aspects of my health.
2. Follow your tears. Always. They always lead to something deeper than just Leaking. If I run away rather than following these tears down the winding and sometimes painful path that they take me on, I am neglecting a beautiful opportunity to travel to a part of my soul that needs some tending.
3. Tears are a sign of the Holy Spirit moving. Which might sound a little bit strange, especially if you don’t find yourself to be of the Jesus Folk, but this has been all too true for me, once I started paying attention. Leaking has continually shown itself as a sign to me of something deeper happening in or around me that the Holy Spirit is pointing me towards. Will I take the privilege to see the glimmer of beauty through the shine of my tears, or will I ignore the opportunity altogether because I’m “embarrassed,” “busy,” or “just emotional”? (Life Tip: Don’t ignore the Holy Spirit).
So, on Dermatologist Cry Day, once I reminded myself of these three infallible Leaking Eye truths, I knew that I couldn’t ignore my unexpected threat of a meltdown at the dermatologist. My tears were a grace. They were good, they were meant to be followed, and they were a sign of the Holy Spirit’s movement in me.
So here’s to gracious tears, to counselor-dermatologists, and to unexpected soul-tending. Leaking Eyes, I am thankful for you (even when I sometimes hate you).
But what about you, dear Reader Folk? What have you learned to be valuable about tears?
“Are we doing anything about that acne?”
Well, doctor. It’s nice to see you, too.
After taking a millisecond to blink hard and remember that it’s her job to be nosy about my skin, I sputtered a response: “Um, well, we were…but then it cleared up so I stopped taking the medication. And then I think I maybe got stressed or something and it came back???”
She looked at me gently, tilted her head to one side, and asked her question in a kind way that made me feel like I was on a cozy counselor’s couch rather than in a sterile, freezing doctor’s office: “Are you stressed?”
And all of a sudden I felt my eyes sting with tears.
Right there, in the middle of a freezing dermatologist’s office, right there in the middle of what should be a restful summer, right there in the middle of the day, my eyes were throwing fast threats that they were about to Leak.
And so I did what any normal person would do.
I swallowed hard and sent up a hail-Mary prayer of “Jesus, I promise we can talk about this later, but for real…please help me not cry here.” I then proceeded to nod diligently at her acne advice. I cracked jokes for the rest of the appointment to ensure that I could laugh away any potential for more Leaking. And after the appointment, I buzzed out of that office right quick. I swiftly responded to a phone call to a colleague. I ran a litany of errands. I did my best to forget the Terrible Leaking Threat.
I hadn't thought that I was stressed. I hadn't thought there was anything that I particularly needed to tend to within myself. But then again, I think that's the beauty and grace of Leaking. It helps your mind catch up with what your body and soul already know.
Three wise folks in my life have taught me three wise things about those pesky moments of Leaking (which admittedly sometimes manifests as a Waterfall, but the same truths still apply...):
1. Tears are good. They are my body’s natural way of responding and I should let them out. Don’t get mad at them; don’t say “I don’t have time to cry,” don’t view them as a sign of weakness. They are natural, good, and needed for all aspects of my health.
2. Follow your tears. Always. They always lead to something deeper than just Leaking. If I run away rather than following these tears down the winding and sometimes painful path that they take me on, I am neglecting a beautiful opportunity to travel to a part of my soul that needs some tending.
3. Tears are a sign of the Holy Spirit moving. Which might sound a little bit strange, especially if you don’t find yourself to be of the Jesus Folk, but this has been all too true for me, once I started paying attention. Leaking has continually shown itself as a sign to me of something deeper happening in or around me that the Holy Spirit is pointing me towards. Will I take the privilege to see the glimmer of beauty through the shine of my tears, or will I ignore the opportunity altogether because I’m “embarrassed,” “busy,” or “just emotional”? (Life Tip: Don’t ignore the Holy Spirit).
So, on Dermatologist Cry Day, once I reminded myself of these three infallible Leaking Eye truths, I knew that I couldn’t ignore my unexpected threat of a meltdown at the dermatologist. My tears were a grace. They were good, they were meant to be followed, and they were a sign of the Holy Spirit’s movement in me.
So here’s to gracious tears, to counselor-dermatologists, and to unexpected soul-tending. Leaking Eyes, I am thankful for you (even when I sometimes hate you).
But what about you, dear Reader Folk? What have you learned to be valuable about tears?