I have a confession to make: I’m a sucker for a good chick flick. I love those fun, light-hearted movies of the romantic comedy variety. And I tend to like ones made back in the 90s or early 00s. The newer ones seem more crass and just less adorable, in my middle-aged opinion.
I normally indulge in a good chick flick when my husband is not at home. Generally, he doesn’t appreciate the finer qualities of a good rom com. But the other day, I had one on – I was only going to watch a few minutes of it, my favorite scene – and he came into the living room and sat down with his laptop.
So my favorite scene begins, where the heroine of the story just bawls her eyes out in an overly dramatic fashion. She is full of pent-up emotions. She has been through so much and has held it together so well and all of a sudden, the dam bursts. And she cries. And cries. And cries. Loudly. She uses lots of tissues. And we see her go from room to room, performing her daily tasks, all the while sobbing her heart out.
And I love that scene. It makes me laugh and cry a little because as women, we just have to keep it together. We take one hit and another and another, and we just keep on going because that’s what we do. We hold everything together and we get everything done. But once in a long while, we just let it all out. The hurts, the disappointments, the injustices we’ve endured. We’ve been so patient and done everything so well, but we’re just tired. And we break.
So I love that scene because I get it. There I am, enjoying the scene, feeling validated and a part of something greater than just me, when my husband, who until then has been quietly working on his laptop, finally hits his own breaking point and interjects: “Isn’t this a bit much?” (You’ll be glad to know that at this point, I resisted the urge to throw pillows at his head.)
But I have to tell you, it’s not just women who do this. I was reading the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis this summer, and I do love that story. It’s such a story of injustice – which I don’t love – but also of redemption and how God can use these hard times in our lives for our good and His glory.
Many know this story well, how Joseph is his father’s favorite son, and his jealous brothers sell him to the Ishmaelites and tell their father that he has been killed by some wild animal. So Joseph endures one injustice after another, and yet God is with him through it all.
And one day, Joseph is second in command to Pharaoh in Egypt, after going through all of the trials and injustices he has endured. And a famine has swept over the land, but because God showed Joseph through Pharaoh’s dream that the famine was coming, Joseph has been able to prepare and stockpile food. So Egypt is not only prepared for themselves, but they can also sell food to those from surrounding lands who come in to Egypt, looking for food.
We read in Genesis 41:51-52 that Joseph gives his two sons names ripe with meaning. The first, he names Manasseh. “For,” he said, “God has made me forget all my hardship and all my father’s house.” He names his second son Ephraim, “For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.”
Joseph seems to be healing well, in spite of all he has gone through. But when his own brothers come to buy food, let’s look at how many times the Bible records Joseph crying. This is fascinating to me. So his brothers don’t recognize him. The last time they saw him, he was only a teenager, and now he is grown and dressed as an Egyptian.
But his brothers are talking amongst themselves, when we read in verse 24 of chapter 42: Then he turned away from them and wept. So if you know the story, you know that Joseph puts his brothers through a few tests before he reveals himself to them.
He makes them go home and bring Benjamin, the youngest brother, back with them. And when Joseph sees Benjamin, we read in verses 30-31: Then Joseph hurried out, for his compassion grew warm for his brother, and he sought a place to weep. And he entered his chamber and wept there. Then he washed his face and came out. And controlling himself he said, “Serve the food.”
A bit later in the story, we see that Joseph again has a good cry. Genesis 45:1-3 tells us: Then Joseph could not control himself before all those who stood by him. He cried, “Make everyone go out from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.
And he wept aloud, so that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. And Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph! Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, for they were dismayed at his presence.
Later in that same chapter, we see it again: Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, and Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them. After that his brothers talked with him (45:14-15).
And if you’ll allow me one more instance, in chapter 46:29, when Joseph gets to see his beloved father again: Then Joseph prepared his chariot and went up to meet Israel his father in Goshen. He presented himself to him and fell on his neck and wept on his neck a good while.
I take such comfort in all of these instances where we are told that Joseph honestly wept. He was actually on the other side of his trials at this point. He was successful, validated. He was no longer a slave, no longer a wrongly convicted prisoner. He was a prominent figure in government. He had made it through these horribly unfair situations at this point. So why does he cry? And does it even matter?
Let me start by saying that I am a very positive person. I love nothing more than to laugh and to see the good in everything. I have even annoyed people with my perkiness on many occasions. They want to know why I am so happy, what I possibly have to smile about all of the time.
I even had a professor in college who, after she got to know me well enough to be able to share such a thing, said to me, “Courtnie, when I first met you, I thought you might not be very smart because you were smiling all of the time. I thought that meant you didn’t have much up in that head of yours. But I have learned that I was wrong.”
So I get it. I honestly believe that the joy of the Lord is my strength (Nehemiah 8:10). I know the Lord is my Shepherd, and in Him, I am fully satisfied (Psalm 23). I agree that all things work together for good for those who love God (Romans 8:28). I love the fact that God rejoices over me with singing (Zephaniah 3:17) and that He has plans for me (Jeremiah 29:11).
I am hopeful that I will have power, together with all believers, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that I may be filled to the measure of the fullness of God (Ephesians 3:17-19).
I’m not giving up! How could I? Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace (2 Corinthians 4:16).
But you know what? Some things are just hard. I have a dear friend who has encouraged me multiple times with this simple sentence: What you are going through is just HARD. She knows that I know the biblical answers to my current situation, but she also knows that what I need is permission to grieve.
As a positive person, I want to put it all behind me as soon as possible and make sure everyone everywhere is settled and happy, that all is well. But what I’ve learned is that sometimes the greatest gift we can give each other is the gift of recognizing how hard things can be and allowing each other to be honest about our struggles.
I think we can see this in Joseph’s tears. Yes, he has come through the worst of it at this point. He has come out on top. He has, essentially, won the battle, if you will. But maybe he cries because it was just so very hard that he still has tears stored up from years past.
Perhaps he cries because seeing his brothers brings it all back to the forefront of his mind, and all of those awful memories come flooding back. Or maybe the good memories come in like a summer storm and thunder away at his resolve. Maybe he is grieving the loss of all of those years away from his family.
But to me, Joseph’s tears don’t show weakness. To me, they show strength. They show that he has not hardened his heart to the point where it can no longer be touched.
As I’ve walked through the pain of middle school with my daughter these past couple years, I have watched her get hurt over and over again. And if I’m being honest, I want to advise her to shut herself up tight, not to let anyone else in. I want to protect her heart at all costs.
But what Joseph’s tears have taught me – and I’m still in this place, not on the other side yet – is that the really strong ones, the really special ones, have learned how to keep their hearts open to give and receive love, to be touched by beauty and yes, even pain.
Because to close oneself off to life is actually the easy thing to do. It’s the keeping oneself deliberately open, knowing that pain will easily find that soft spot, that is the courageous choice. A choice we must make again and again and again.
Tears can lead to joy. Grief can end in hope. And if we are faithful to allow ourselves to grieve, we may find, like Joseph, that we do reach that place where we are able to see the big picture.
He tells his brothers: You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives (Genesis 50:20).
In the end, Joseph’s trials, and his ensuing tears, were not about only him, but about saving many lives. There was a purpose in his pain. There was truth in his tears. And you and I can rest assured that there will be a day when we understand our pain and our tears as well. Until then, may we make the brave choice to keep our hearts open.
Wow
Hi Carolyn! Thanks for reading! 🙂