Mourning Dew

"Take this sorrow to thy heart, and make it a part of thee, and it shall nourish thee til thou art strong again." - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Do not say, 'Why were the old days better than these?' For it is not wise to ask such questions." Ecclesiastes 7:10

Sorrow, the evasive dew that weighs down the spry leaves growing in our souls, is nearly impossible to eliminate. Like the dew that collects on the outer foliage of the earth, sorrow is too vast to press a cloth to each leaf and wipe away the sadness; one must wait until the dawning of the airy sun for all the mist to evaporate. 'Tis not ultimately unbearable, for one to await the gradual dawning of their own sun, for most know the moment will come when their sorrows will dissipate. Holding the sorrow of another, however, is less like dew - it is heaver and thicker, sticking to the soul relentlessly. It is like a wounded tree spilling its dense sap onto the leaves of the ground. Both suffer the weight of one's injury.

It is much easier to await the light of God's arrival on my own dampened spirit than it is to await His arrival to another. When I am unable to assist relieving another's tragic sorrow, and unsure if they are aware the light will dawn, I am the leaves of the ground catching the sap from the adjacent tree. I yearn to provide an artificial sun, one that will dawn and dry up the original sorrow on the other's soul, so they may heal and sap will no longer be spilled. Despite this desperate longing, I am unable to conjure such a sun, and am left frantic, fearful that the weight bending my stem will be too much to bear.

The one part I am forgetting, however, is the part that matters most. Sap does not evaporate like the delicate dews of the morning - it sticks and rolls, leaving hindering traces of its substance behind. To truly rid myself of such sap, someone else would need to come cleanse my leaves with hands untouched; said person would also cleanse the wounded tree, stifling the flow of sap and healing the original injury. This person is the Savior of the world, the Lamb of God. I cannot control the injuries of others (or myself), and cannot bear the burden on my own. I need Jesus to come rescue me from the weight of sorrow and replenish the sun in my soul. He is the dawning light I need to evaporate my sorrow, and the hand I must await to wipe away the sap upon me. No artificial sun could ever replace the love and power of my God, Jesus Christ, the protector of all and the eternal King.

"When times are good, be happy; but when times are bad, consider: God has made the one as well as the other. Therefore, no one can discover anything about his future." Ecclesiastes 7:14

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 5:3