Weeping May Remain for a Night, but Joy...

I mentioned in an earlier post that my moods change a lot lately. But one thing that hasn't changed much is that I'm having a hard time wanting to read my Bible. I'm really unsure as to why this is, but the other day when I did actually take the opportunity to read, something bizarre happened. 

I was reading in Luke 1 about the coming births of Jesus and John. An angel is telling Mary about her conception and about her relative Elizabeth's conception as well. He explains to Mary: "For this is now the sixth month  for her who was called barren." I smiled at that part.

But then I read the next line: "For with God nothing will be impossible." (Luke 1:37)

I could never have predicted what happened next. With no warning whatsoever, I wept big, fat donkey tears. I didn't so much cry as guffaw. And the tears came uncontrollably. Try as I might, I couldn't stop the flow for many minutes. 

This is exactly how I cried:

In retrospect, the crying was pretty funny. 

It was also touching. Humbling. Prayerful. 

All these years I knew that mourning could bruise a heart, but I never knew that joy could pierce even more deeply.

The baby kicked vigorously inside me as I wept. I realized in that one moment that my lack of words was probably the deepest worship experience and most intimate conversation I have ever had with God. I'll never forget it. 

"For with God nothing will be impossible."