"When the Lord brought back the captives to Zion, we were like men who dreamed.
Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations, 'The Lord has done great things for them.'
The Lord has done great hings for us, and we are filled with joy.
Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negev.
Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.
He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with him." (Psalm 126)
I don't know at exactly what point I began to feel this turning in my spirit concerning my grief over the death of my son (I must use that word 'death' because that keeps it real for me). Maybe it was when God brought me into the midst of a group of believers who were not afraid to weep and mourn with me. I feel as though I had been doing enough of that on my own and now it was time to have some real help. There is a Bulgarian proverb that says joy shared is doubled, while sorrow that is shared is diminished. Or maybe it was the last time I visited my son's grave (another reality for me) and though I was only there briefly, it was the first time I did not cry. I learned in Israel that people there visit graves to celebrate the lives of those they have lost. From that time I began to look forward to the day that I would be able to do that - with real joy.
I thought I understood the word 'restoration' years ago when I used to sing about it, and maybe I did but only to a certain degree. Especially when I would think about the joy of my salvation and the new life I had obtained in Christ. But the restoration that I am coming to understand now is much different and far greater than that. In fact, it is even a little scary because it is coming to me as the result of my having sown much tears and weeping. David also said in Psalm 30 that weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning. I don't think I realized how much sorrow and darkness I had experienced until I started to see the light of day and joy began to resurface on the horizon. Although it is just starting, I already feel like I'm dreaming and afraid to wake up if I am. Or like I'm waking up from what I thought or hoped was only a dream. A Christian songwriter once wrote: "...but on the inside things can happen, in a war we'll never see there will come a victory." (Jesus spoke of the kingdom of God in a similar manner)
But the Negev is a very dry place...until the rains come and cause the streams to flow through it (which reminds me of another song, "For My Growing," by Mylon LeFevre). Can the Lord produce rivers in the desert? Yes, He can. And I am beginning to understand that in my sorrow I have been sowing seeds and watering them at the same time with my tears. And the master Gardener and Husbandman has been faithfully watching over them and is now giving the increase as only He can do. Not only that, but I also believe that He has been strengthening me -in my weakness- to be able to carry the sheaves that will be gleaned from the coming harvest. Sheaves that will provide 'seed' to others who may be sowing their own tears and weeping...
Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations, 'The Lord has done great things for them.'
The Lord has done great hings for us, and we are filled with joy.
Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negev.
Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.
He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow, will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with him." (Psalm 126)
I don't know at exactly what point I began to feel this turning in my spirit concerning my grief over the death of my son (I must use that word 'death' because that keeps it real for me). Maybe it was when God brought me into the midst of a group of believers who were not afraid to weep and mourn with me. I feel as though I had been doing enough of that on my own and now it was time to have some real help. There is a Bulgarian proverb that says joy shared is doubled, while sorrow that is shared is diminished. Or maybe it was the last time I visited my son's grave (another reality for me) and though I was only there briefly, it was the first time I did not cry. I learned in Israel that people there visit graves to celebrate the lives of those they have lost. From that time I began to look forward to the day that I would be able to do that - with real joy.
I thought I understood the word 'restoration' years ago when I used to sing about it, and maybe I did but only to a certain degree. Especially when I would think about the joy of my salvation and the new life I had obtained in Christ. But the restoration that I am coming to understand now is much different and far greater than that. In fact, it is even a little scary because it is coming to me as the result of my having sown much tears and weeping. David also said in Psalm 30 that weeping may endure for the night but joy comes in the morning. I don't think I realized how much sorrow and darkness I had experienced until I started to see the light of day and joy began to resurface on the horizon. Although it is just starting, I already feel like I'm dreaming and afraid to wake up if I am. Or like I'm waking up from what I thought or hoped was only a dream. A Christian songwriter once wrote: "...but on the inside things can happen, in a war we'll never see there will come a victory." (Jesus spoke of the kingdom of God in a similar manner)
But the Negev is a very dry place...until the rains come and cause the streams to flow through it (which reminds me of another song, "For My Growing," by Mylon LeFevre). Can the Lord produce rivers in the desert? Yes, He can. And I am beginning to understand that in my sorrow I have been sowing seeds and watering them at the same time with my tears. And the master Gardener and Husbandman has been faithfully watching over them and is now giving the increase as only He can do. Not only that, but I also believe that He has been strengthening me -in my weakness- to be able to carry the sheaves that will be gleaned from the coming harvest. Sheaves that will provide 'seed' to others who may be sowing their own tears and weeping...
