The particulars are not necessary. All you need to know is that I was in a moment of complete vulnerability in prayer.
Tears were coming down my face, taking the usual path down my cheek, and falling off of my chin. When I felt one single tear jump from my eyelash and land on the knuckle of the middle finger on my right hand. Curious.
It traveled down slowly to my wrist, mirroring the blue vein. I must have sat there, completely at peace, for a minute or two. Just staring. The tear didn’t absorb into my skin, and neither did it’s trail.
What was this tear up to? Was it trying to tell me something? Was it too looking for an adventure in a place it had never been before? Or was the fact that it wasn’t sinking into the top layer of my skin telling me that I am exactly in the right place in my life right now?
Or…was it just a drop of salt water, that was having a difficult time getting back into my system due to the cocoa butter lotion I had put on an hour prior?
I am by no means scientifically minded, but I do know that tears don’t have cognitive powers of their own; but no matter, I was captivated.
This cluster of hydrogen and oxygen (and sodium?) molecules, this rogue tear, dried up my other tears. As I stared, I realized that I stopped thinking about what effect these situations would have on me, and started to really pray for those that I promised to pray for.
This rogue tear showed me the folly of my tears.
Do not pray without the belief of God’s love in your heart. Do not speak if your actions will not back up your words. And in the moments when you think you have all the answers, or at least you think you know exactly what to say…
Be quiet and listen.