the ugly cry

So, here it is: my inagural blog.

I have to admit, I've been quite resistent to this whole blog thing. I've managed to ward off MySpace, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time...

Anyway, there's something about the idea of one putting one's thoughts down for anyone and everyone to look through or comment on that gives me the creeps. Maybe it's becuase my own thoughts often give me the creeps. But today, for whatever reason, I decided to begin writing my thoughts for others to see. Maybe this will only feed the voyeuristic appetites of the masses. Maybe I'm assuming way too much.

Or maybe writing is a way of confessing. Maybe it is my way of confessing. Regardless, today I feel the need to confess. I confess that I am having a very hard time grieving. I was in church this morning and for the entire 60 minues, or so, I was fighting the urge to weep. Now, I'm not referring to the weeping of a beautiful maiden waiving goodbye with her beautiful hankercheif to her beautiful love as he sails off into the beautiful sunset to fight the beautiful battles of the new world. That is weeping reserved for Lifetime Original Movies or Jane Austin novels. No, I am referring to something called the 'ulgy cry'; this is the swollen-eyed-snotty-nosed-can't-quite-catch-my-breath-beacuse-I'm-crying-so-freaking-hard-and-I-don't-think-I'll-ever-stop cry. Hopefully I'm not the only one who has experienced this.

It takes a lot of self-control to ward off the ugly cry. Part of me felt very proud of my self control. After all, who wants to look like a freak show in an mid to upper class Presbyterian church packed to the gills with people? Who wants to look like they need a major intervention, or minimally a sedative? Who wants to look like they need? Not me.

"I don't want to be needy! Who wants to be around needy people?!!" I angrily asked my counselor a few weeks ago. "Who really wants that?"
"Jesus," he said softly.

I felt the wind knocked out of me, and again found myself fighting the urge to weep.

I have not let myself need for a long time. I have grown up despising my need, for my need has left me wanting. I know that I need, but I do not let myself feel the extent of my need. Instead, I get a bachelors degree in nursing, and a masters in counseling, and spend my life tending to the needs of others. Maybe that's a way of tending to mine. Maybe it's a start. Hopefully there will soon come a day where I am not tending to my needs in the third person.

I am hoping for the day that I free myself to grieve and cry the ugliest cry I have ever known. I hope this day comes soon. For it is there, in the midst of my undeniable need, that I will know the true love and grace of Christ as he holds my tears in his hands and calls them beautiful.