For those wandering through the valley of tears. In the absence of easy answers, just a few quiet words whispered over your arduous journey…
The valley: an exhausting passage into the low places. Nestled between life’s peaks and hilltops, the canyon comes for us. Whether through dryness, disappointment, or desolation, the valley bends our knees and breaks our hearts.
The valley is dark- and shadows loom large; the only way out is through. It is the place in which hot tears thicken our throats and roll down our cheeks as we trudge through the quiet and lonely plains of life. It is the intersection at which pain deafens, while the silence of God rings hollow in our ears.
It is here our tears water the soil of our soul; it is fertile and holy ground. Just as the mountain’s surface runoff forges the lush vegetation in the valley’s shadow, our tears resuscitate the arid spaces deep in our bones. It is this place our faith is heartened, and true hope in God’s character (in spite or because of painful circumstances) is revived. It is a hard peace— but one worth fighting for.
Psalm 84:5–6 (ESV):
5” Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
6 As they go through the Valley of Baca1 they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.”
Stripped of all expectations and armed only with the promise of God’s presence, we walk on. Through the Valley of Tears, we ascend. With our hearts set on the pilgrimage, we press on together. And together, with open hearts, the valley of desolation is slowly, painfully, remade.
The hiddenness of God never precluded His nearness, and our weeping is met with God’s kindness. In Christ, we are invited to not only lie down and rest (Psalm 23), but to relish in springs of living water to refresh our weary souls and revive the brittle corners of our lives.
The journey is messy. And hard. Borne out of the wounds of suffering, a new way of seeing emerges. The valley tills the roots of a faith that burrows somewhere deep below the surface of things.
Broken and slowly remade, we are now wounded healers2. Together, we pour out the tears shed in the valley as an offering to love God, and one another (however imperfectly). Hold on in the valley, friends. Hold on to God. Hold on to that which is good. Hold on to one another.
1-Baca- [from (בָּכָה - wept), weeping], and also similar to that of the balsam tree known to weep sap.- Strong’s Hebrew Concordance, 1056-בָּכָא, via Biblehub.com.
2-The Wounded Healer, Henri J. Nouwen, 1971.
