He Catches My Tears
There is a moment from when I was young that changed me. It became a cornerstone of my faith and revealed God’s presence in a deeply personal way that still resonates.
High school retreats often design Saturday night services to stir hearts and draw young people closer to God. That night, while the service moved many, something unique happened to me during the opening song. Tears began to flow down my cheeks, catching me by surprise. As the service proceeded, memories of painful moments from my childhood surfaced. My past holds difficult experiences that have left deep wounds, and that night marked the first time I truly confronted their weight. Overwhelmed, I wept for the sorrow embedded in my story.
The details of the service and the sermon have faded from memory, but the moment I remember was the connection between my tears and the lyrics of the song we sang: “And Jesus said, come to the waters, stand by my side. I know you are thirsty, you won’t be denied. I felt every tear drop when in darkness you cried. And I strove to remind you, that for those tears I died.”
I had grown up understanding the core tenets of my faith. I knew Jesus died for the sin in the world, that he promised to restore all things, and that he cared for me. Yet, in that moment, his love became vividly personal. It was not merely a sacrifice for humanity’s tears but for my tears, for each one and the pain behind it. He entered my pool of sorrow and began to hold my hand in it.
Years later, I see that moment as a powerful encounter with a biblical truth. Comfort didn’t come from erased suffering; the Lord didn’t wipe my tears away. Life has since brought more pain, yet in that service, I learned Jesus catches my tears rather than wiping them away. He gives each one meaning, showing that every moment of pain matters deeply to Him—so much that He gave His life for it.
In suffering, I often yearn for God to erase the pain entirely. And that’s not a bad longing. It holds onto the promise that God will swallow up death and wipe away every tear (Isaiah 25:8). I eagerly await that day when sorrow is no more.
Yet, as I navigate loss within my family today, sitting at my desk with tears on my cheeks, I am reminded of the truth I discovered years ago. One day, he will wipe these tears away. For now, he catches them (Psalm 56:8). This tender image of Jesus, present in my grief, echoes his weeping at Lazarus’s tomb, sharing in sorrow even as he prepared to conquer death. He is the Savior who mourns with me and promises to dry my tears in his perfect time.