some things are worth crying about

i cry a lot (although i usually do it away from people, so it's not something most people know about me). and i cry a lot more in Amsterdam than elsewhere. sometimes, it gets a bit excessive: for about 6 weeks this fall, i was crying almost every day. i'm sure some of it was related to having a somewhat imbalanced life, the sense of frustration and inadequacy i felt concerning the delay in completing my thesis, and the fact that i was recognizing and processing some changes in my life, but these things were not the only cause of my tears. i'm thankful that things have changed - and that i'm now only crying about once a week [crying so much is quite emotionally exhausting!]. and yet, even through the times when i cry more than i'd like, i've learned that there are some things that are worth crying about.

we live in a broken world - and a lot of things are not how they should be. and since i live in community, it's a bit harder to ignore the brokenness in others and myself since we are all affected by it - whether it be the brokenness of laziness, lack of grace, inability to listen, confusion, entitlement, despair, pride, or something else. and people come to the community because they recognize that they are broken and need help - but the process of growth is never easy for anyone involved in the process, especially when so many unhealthy patterns need to be overcome (and these patterns bump into others' lives). and since i live in the Red Light District, the broken picture of sex and the prevalence of drugs encroaches on our minds and hearts and space, even if we don't want it to. in my life, the brokenness of the world and the pain it causes is blatantly obvious - and for the pain it causes me and the pain i see in others, crying is a good response.

and in this crazy, broken world, a lot of times there is no great answer. or good solution. or even necessarily good choices. a lot of times, the choice/situation involves trying to assess what is best out of a lot of difficult questions. how do you create an atmosphere of grace but also teach responsibility? and even if every person and situation is unique, how do you create a structure that fits each person while also not being unfair to others who have been given less freedom or grace or attention? and how do you deal positively with the fact that sometimes it is unfair - and even when it is relatively fair, people will still perceive it as unfair? how do you push somebody to grow and accept new challenges while not pushing too hard that they resist and run away? how do you love someone else's child(ren) while not competing for the love they give to their parent(s) - a love that might be precarious enough as it is? how do you know how much to encourage, how much to challenge, how much to let people find their own way, and how much to provide answers and/or solutions?

and so i cry. because the moments of un-brokenness and grace are sometimes so hard to see, even if in reality there a lot of them. because it is easier to see the resentment and failure of people instead of the moments when they reach out to someone else. because it is easier to complain than to ask how to be part of making things healthier. because it is easier to accuse and wonder about unreliability than to ask what's wrong that this is so. because sometimes it's easier to stop trying to be there with others instead of struggling to find the right words to show love. because sometimes i can't help or do anything no matter how much i want to. and because sometimes i don't even have the energy to care or desire to participate and/or help.

and so even as much as crying sometimes makes me uncomfortable, there are some things that i ought to cry about. and i hope that never goes away. and as i cry i pray, and i bring my frustration and sadness and all of the impossible problems and situations to God. and slowly i can remember that God is working amidst the impossible. God is not stuck by my helplessness and limitations to do something, for which i am deeply thankful.

and yet, even as i remember that, i can not help but cry for those who do not have God to turn to in the midst of the brokenness of the world. and i cry, too, for us Christians who so often struggle in sharing our hope - even when we see the brokenness and pain in the world and people all around us.