“What do you do when you're feeling weepy? Just weep?”

My friend’s text:  “Did you make it home? I assume all is well?”

Mine: “Home and feeling weepy.”

Friend: “What do you do when you're feeling weepy? Just weep?”

Mine: “This will need to be a longer answer. I'll get to it later”

Now it is later. Here’s an attempt at an answer. 

I cry easily. About sad things and happy things and sad/happy things. 

It could be a song, a story, a landscape, a snowfall. My heart and thoughts will fill with emotion- wonder and beauty, sorrow and concern- and the overflow seeps (or pours) out of the edges of my eyes.

Other times I can sense my eyes watering before I am aware that my heart feels anything or any thought has crossed my mind.  

Last Sunday, I was happily sitting in church. It was a good service. Gospel truth. Family warmth. I was in the moment. And then without warning, I wiped a tear from my left eye. And another one. That afternoon, I walked into the kitchen to get something I left there, and between the doorway and the counter my eyes filled. It was only then I realized that I was wearing my well-worn invisible melancholy shawl. I had the blues. The weepies. A gentle unsettledness. 

If I pause to think about it, I can usually remember when I put that shawl on. This time I had unconsciously draped it over my shoulders when I said goodbye to my daughter. It was hours later when the tears began to well up that I felt its weight. Not heavy. Not overwhelming. But there. 

What do I do? There’s no formula. No set pattern.

I think the things I do are founded on three things. The character and promisies of God. Acceptance of His plans for me. Fulfilling the responsibilities he has given me.

Usually whatever is making me weepy does not need to be evaluated or analyzed. It’s just my response to living in a fallen world where things are not always as they should be. I don’t want to ignore how I am feeling, but I don’t want to make my feelings the center of my attention. Dwelling on feelings that could be  here today and gone tomorrow, actually makes them stick around longer.  So most days, I acknowledge them and move on. They come with me - but don’t lead the way. 

I have also learned not to try to fight with the blues. Or try to wish them away. Or beat myself up because they have shown up. The sooner I can accept them as something the Lord has allowed, the better I handle them. “In Acceptance Lieth Peace.” (See below)

Often, I do the next thing. This comes from a poem made popular by Elisabeth Elliot. (Also below)  Doing helps. Dishes, laundry, scheduling, responding to emails. Something that engages my mind on other things. I have checked a lot of things off my To Do List with blurry eyes. 

If my thoughts keep running to the sadness and I have the luxury of free time, I may read. Do a puzzle. 

Getting outside is great therapy. A brisk walk in whatever weather - it’s better if it is raining or snowing and I have to concentrate on my footsteps! I look up and around. I need to see how big the world is compared to my sorrow. I need to be reminded of my Creator who holds all things in his hands. 

I phone a friend. Not to talk about my blues, but to ask questions of her. Hear about her day. Or I think of someone I can make a meal for. Caring for others lifts my burdens. 

if you pour yourself out for the hungry

    and satisfy the desire of the afflicted,

then shall your light rise in the darkness

    and your gloom be as the noonday.

Isaiah 58:10

Because my husband is one with me, he will soon know when I am weepy. I ask him to pray for me. While holding me. Touch is good. He does so with truth and understanding. My prayers for myself are short: Lord have mercy. Help me to believe what I know to be true even when the sun is not shining. I have a list of promises that I will read aloud. 

If it lasts for more than a few days, or can’t be brought under control, I have to begin to think about external causes. Diet? Exercise? Water intake? Sleep? I may have to do a deeper dive inside. Is there something amiss with a relationship I need to attend to? Is the Lord trying to get my attention about a sinful pattern or a drift into self-dependence? Usually, I am not so good at thinking clearly and applying truth when I am weepy. It’s best for me to do evaluative thinking once my mood has lifted. 

I have friends who have experienced significant depression. This is not that. From their descriptions, they feel like they are living in darkness with chains around their feet and a burden on their back. The help they need differs from the way the Lord has helped me. This is not meant to be clinical advise for them. It is simply an explanation of the way our Sovereign Father has helped me. The weight of my melancholy shawl is so much lighter than what they experience.  We each walk the path the Lord has set in front of us. He knows and He cares. 

In Acceptance Lieth Peace

A poem by Amy Carmichael (1867-1951)

He said, ‘I will forget the dying faces; The empty places, They shall be filled again. O voices moaning deep within me, cease.’ But vain the word; vain, vain: Not in forgetting lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will crowd action upon action, The strife of faction Shall stir me and sustain; O tears that drown the fire of manhood cease. ’But vain the word; vain, vain: Not in endeavour lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will withdraw me and be quiet, Why meddle in life’s riot? Shut be my door to pain. Desire, thou dost befool me, thou shalt cease.’ But vain the word; vain, vain: Not in aloofness lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will submit; I am defeated.

God hath depleted My life of its rich gain. O futile murmurings, why will ye not cease? ’But vain the word; vain, vain: Not in submission lieth peace.

He said, ‘I will accept the breaking sorrow Which God tomorrow Will to His son explain. ’Then did the turmoil deep within me cease. Not vain the word, not vain; For in acceptance lieth peace.

(the submission in the 4th stanza is a fatalistic resignation)

“DO THE NEXT THING.”

From an old English parsonage down by the sea There came in the twilight a message to me; Its quaint Saxon legend, deeply engraven, Hath, it seems to me, teaching from Heaven. And on through the doors the quiet words ring Like a low inspiration: “DO THE NEXT THING.”

Many a questioning, many a fear, Many a doubt, hath its quieting here. Moment by moment, let down from Heaven, Time, opportunity, and guidance are given. Fear not tomorrows, child of the King, Trust them with Jesus, do the next thing

Do it immediately, do it with prayer; Do it reliantly, casting all care; Do it with reverence, tracing His hand Who placed it before thee with earnest command. Stayed on Omnipotence, safe ‘neath His wing, Leave all results, do the next thing.

Looking for Jesus, ever serener, Working or suffering, be thy demeanor; In His dear presence, the rest of His calm, The light of His countenance be thy psalm, Strong in His faithfulness, praise and sing. Then, as He beckons thee, do the next thing.