If all the tears that have been cried over my Jud Bud were pooled together to create a body of water, I wonder how large it would be.  Would the numerous tears fill a bathtub?  Would they fill a pool or pond?  Could they possibly fill a lake large enough for me to swim?

I am reminded of the verse in Psalms that expresses God’s empathy in our pain stating that he holds our tears in a bottle. (Psalm 56:8)  This collection of tears seems to imply that they are cherished, never to be forgotten.  In fact, I perceive that it even implies the Lord will vindicate our pain upon Christ’s return. 

Yet, as I ponder the flood of tears that have flowed from my eyes since Jud’s onset of symptoms, an average bottle doesn’t seem even remotely large enough to contain these tangible expressions of my pain.  Is there any bottle on earth big enough to hold the tears I’ve shed over Jud?!?  And what if all the tears of others cried on behalf of our son were poured out together, what could contain them?

Though the picture of the bottle is likely figurative, I find great comfort in envisioning God setting aside a special place, like a large lake, where he adds each tear that flows on behalf of my boy.  Maybe Jud is swimming in that lake now and someday he and I can splash in it together.  This feels like sweet redemption to all the sorrow.

The tears keep flowing; drop by drop the water level rises.