"Crying Won't Help Anything"

Yep, those were some of my Daddy's wise words to me. I've thought of them several times since he died a month ago. And I've had to disagree. Though crying over his death has not brought him back to us, the tears have not been in vain.

Maybe I need to back up, w-a-a-a-a-y up. To 1960 (the olden days, for some of you). I was six years old, sitting on the front steps of our red-brick, tri-level house in Richmond, Virginia. The morning was hot, the gnats already swarming. It was a perfect day to go swimming, and my Daddy was walking to the car to take me to Three Chopt Recreation Association, aka the pool. Yet I sat there bawling. That's when Daddy turned to me and said, "Crying won't help anything, Joy."

Now that I think of it, I guess you could say he was being kind because what I was doing was not simply crying. I was having what my Mama called a hissy fit, dramatically throwing myself on the steps and wailing like an ambulance siren. I had already tried the martyr's silent crocodile tears thing, but it hadn't seemed to phase Daddy, so I had moved on to the hissy's loud real tears fit. Why? Swimming lessons. Yes, my mean old parents were making me take swimming lessons. They wanted me to be able to keep from drowning. They wanted me to enjoy jumping off the diving board, doing handstands under the water, having relays with friends and other such torturous activities.

Truth be told, I wanted to do all those things, but I was afraid of any water deeper than my knees, and I just knew those swimming lesson teachers were actually sadists who looked forward to throwing innocent children in deep water and watching them sink. Hence, the hissy fit.

Of course, I ended up going to swimming lessons because in those days, a child's histrionics did not change a parent's mind. I cried all the way, mind you, hoping that at the last minute Daddy would choose the humane road and turn the car around. But he made the left into the parking lot. W-a-h! He pulled into the first available space. W- a- a-h! He came around and opened the door for me. Wa - hunh -ah! He "helped" me out of the car. Wa - hunh - hiccup - unh - ah! And he unceremoniously propelled me into the pool area, where he gave me "the look" and left. Oh, well! I learned to swim and have been grateful many times, although I never learned to enjoy the water like my brother and sister did.

Crying didn't help. In that situation, Daddy was so right. And there've been other times in my life when his wise words have applied and I've skipped the dramatics because I learned a lesson that day. But I think Daddy meant more than meets the ears here. I think he meant that we can rebel against life, kick against reality, even throw a hissy fit every now and then, but we won't be the best we can be if we don't face our fears or do the hard thing.

I have found that crying doesn't help everything, but crying out to God does. Listen to this wonderful story from Mark 10.

verses 46-52:

As he went out of Jericho with his disciples and a great number of people, blind
Bartimaeus, the son of Timaeus, sat by the highway side begging.
When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to cry out and say, "Jesus,
thou son of David, have mercy on me."
Many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal,
"Thou son of David, have mercy on me."
Jesus stood still and commanded him to be called. And they called the blind man,
saying unto him, "Be of good comfort; rise; he calleth thee."
And he, casting away his garment, rose, and came to Jesus.
Jesus answered and said unto him, "What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?"
The blind man said unto him, "Lord, that I might receive my sight."
And Jesus said unto him, "Go thy way; thy faith hath made thee whole." And
immediately he received his sight, and followed Jesus in the way.

I am reminded of the Chris Rice song -

Weak and wounded sinner, Lost and left to die
O, raise your head, for love is passing by.
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus
Come to Jesus and live!
Now your burden's lifted and carried far away
And precious blood has washed away the stain, so
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus
Sing to Jesus and live!
And like a newborn baby, don't be afraid to crawl
And remember when you walk, sometimes you fall, so
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus
Fall on Jesus and live!
Sometimes the way is lonely and steep and filled with pain
So if your sky is dark and pours with rain, then
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus
Cry to Jesus and live!
Oh, and when the love spills over and music fills the night
And when you can't contain your joy inside, then
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus
Dance for Jesus and live!
And with your final heartbeat kiss the world goodbye
Then go in peace, and laugh on Glory's side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live!