I guess I must be a tough guy, a hard ass, impervious to true sensitivity. About two months ago my wife and I were talking and she asked me, “when was the last time you cried.”

As we talked it became apparent that my wife had never seen me cry. Somewhere lodged in my mind might be the thought that to publically cry might be a sign of weakness—but that’s just me self-analyzing, but it could be true.

I told my wife that I had cried just a week earlier; I explained that in my time with God I cry regularly, she just doesn’t get to see those times.

I cry for several reasons. I cry out of joy; I know God, how amazing is that, that the Creator of all the worlds would reveal himself to me? I cry because I’ve been crushed with the truth of my own wickedness; God has placed a mirror in front of me and shown me the awfulness of my behavior in the past.

I cry for my kids, both out of joy and concern. I cry because I’ve failed God. I cry for wandering friends and family. I cry because I recognized I’ve wasted a lot of my life. I cry because I feel the presence of God when I’m alone with him.

I cried today!

I sat in my bed spending time with God; I had a book about the Holy Spirit next to me, my Bible and a small journal I keep monthly—but I didn’t even get to any of those.

On my Ipod I had the song “Hear Our Praises” performed by Hillsong. I began listening to the song just as a way of locating my heart next to God’s. Then, something unexpectedly happened, a worship service broke out. For some reason the lyrics to the song began to lodge in my cranium by some invisible force and the words rolled over and over until there were tears rolling down my cheeks. Of course my wife wasn’t around, as usual; I think she was having coffee and entertaining our cat, Ms. Kitty.

I think it was the shear joy of the words that captivated me…

 

may our homes be filled with dancing
may our streets be filled with joy.
may injustice bow to Jesus
as the people turn to pray.

 

            “May injustice bow to Jesus” had a particularly strong effect on me; I think that’s when the first tears came. What an amazing prayer; that all the injustice that our world suffers from would bow to Jesus!

            Then the chorus began…
from the mountains to the valleys
hear our praises rise to You,
from the heavens to the nations
hear our singing fill the air.

And, in that moment I just got a much bigger glimpse of heaven and the glory of God. It was God himself who was carrying my praise…our praise…from the mountains to the valleys…praise to Him! And, I remembered that God’s love is for the world—not just me. I’ll come back to that in a moment.

may Your light shine in the darkness
as we walk before the cross
may Your glory fill the whole earth
as the water o’er seas.

So, I found myself undulating in the pure joy of knowing God, and so much so that I got out of the bed, cranked the volume higher, and just worshiped God there by myself…tears flowing down both cheeks. Too bad my wife wasn’t there, I would have slipped one of my ear buds out and given it to her and we could have worshipped together.

            Then there came a point where I simply couldn’t contain myself anymore; it was the bridge of hallelujah’s. I can’t put it into words, just thankfulness.

hallelujah.hallelujah
hallelujah,hallelujah…
hallelujah,hallelujah
hallelujah,hallelujah

So, I cried today. It wasn’t mushy stuff—it wasn’t over some “chick flick” I’d watched with my wife, it wasn’t because I’d heard somebody’s story of rescue, freedom and redemption at the hands of God. I think it was because I was made aware of my own redemptive story at the hands of God.

After listening to “Hear Our Praises” a half dozen times I settled in to read, but that never happened either. I began to listen to a song called “Spirit Song;” it was an instrumental performed by a guy named Michael Gettel, and God triggered something in my mind.

At that moment I remembered a guy from my hometown that I used to be friends with, his name was Kenny Gatchel. In that moment I heard the whisper of God say “pray for Kenny Gatchel, wherever he might be right now; pray that he would hear My voice and know that I love him.” So I did.

Then, seemingly out of the blue God seemed to bring to my mind names of people I hadn’t thought of in years, even decades, and prompted me to pray that same prayer for them. That’s when I remembered that God’s love is for all people; everybody in the world. I hadn’t spoken with Kenny Gatchel in thirty years. Hallelujah!