A Quote by Ovid
There is some joy in weeping. For our tears
Fill up the cup, then wash our pain away.
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When our trials come, when we feel pain and suffering, when our tears flow again, it is our joy and comfort to lift our faces heavenward and to go on, standing on the promises of God.
I know life is hard but we can always find hope in music and wash away our tears
There are going to be tears in Heaven, because God is going to have to wipe them away. No doubt many of us will cry when we first arrive there and realize just how much our many mistakes have cost and lost. But God will wipe away all these tears, and comfort and encourage us and inspire us for the future, so we can forget the past. There will be tears, but thank God He will wipe them away with His joy. Then there will be no more tears and no more years, only a happy eternity!
Food can fill our stomachs but never our souls.
Posessions can fill our houses but never our hearts.
Sex can fill our nights but never our hunger for love.
Children can fill our days but never our identities.
Jesus wants us to know only He can fill us and truly satisfy us.
My children make me cry on a daily basis about everything. Tears of joy, tears of pain, tears of sadness - all the tears, all the time.
It can take years of tears to melt the hardness that develops in this world, covering our tender, gentler inner selves. Tears for every devastating loss, tears for every humiliating failure, tears for every repeated mistake. Those who honor those tears, and even honor them, are not failures at love but rather its true initiates. First the pain and then the power. First the heart breaks and then it soars.
Cuban eyes often look close to tears. Tears never seem far away because both their pain and their joy are always so close to the surface.
Now you see,' said the turtle, drifting back into the pond, 'why it is useless to cry. Your tears do not wash away your sorrows. They feed someone else's joy. And that is why you must learn to swallow your own tears.
You and I were created for joy, and if we miss it we miss the reason for our existence. If our joy is honest joy, it must somehow be congruous with human tragedy. This is the test of joy's integrity. It is compatible with pain. Only the heart that hurts has a right to joy.
God... has a pencil with an eraser on it and he has promised us that he will use it if we will repent and change our ways…He has said that if we would forsake our evil and thoroughly make up our minds against it, then he would wash it out of his mind and just forget the whole thing. Of course, he expects that we will wash it out of our minds also.
Most people think of love as an energy between two people, which it is, but it's not only that. When we think of love in those limited terms, we become what I call "love beggars." We walk around looking for love outside of ourselves. We'll go up to people as though we have a beggar's cup in our hands and look to them to fill up our cup.
Everybody's heart is like a cup. They stumble from place to place and person to person, trying to get them filled. They get cracked, those cups, and even broken. Some people throw them away, thinking that it will stop the pain. Poor fools. Nobody can fill a cup but Almighty God Himself. Nobody.
So much of our early gladness vanishes utterly from our memory: we can never recall the joy with which we laid our heads on our mother's bosom or rode on our father's back in childhood; doubtless that joy is wrought up into our nature, as the sunlight of long-past mornings is wrought up in the soft mellowness of the apricot; but it is gone forever from our imagination, and we can only believe in the joy of childhood.
Nature best teaches how to pray, and how to reverence all the gifts the Almighty has given us. She is like a vast outspread handkerchief, embroidered with God's eternal name, on which we may dry alike our tears of sorrow and of joy; she turns weeping into ecstasy, and fills our hearts with speechless, quiet reverence and resignation.
We all have our moments of weakness, just as well that we are still capable of weeping, tears are often our salvation, there are times when we would die if we did not weep - Blindness
Then I noticed that my shadow was crying too, shedding clear, sharp shadow tears. Have you ever seen the shadows of tears, Mr. Wind-Up Bird? They’re nothing like ordinary shadows. Nothing at all. They come here from some other, distant world, especially for our hearts. Or maybe not. It struck me then that the tears my shadow was shedding might be the real thing, and the tears that I was shedding were just shadows. You don’t get it, I’m sure, Mr. Wind-Up Bird. When a naked seventeen-year-old girl is shedding tears in the moonlight, anything can happen. It’s true.
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