I had to post this poem TODAY because YESTERDAY I was too busy crying. I think sometimes people are ashamed to admit that they cry – especially men – believing that crying is a useless and embarrassing thing to do.
But even crying can have a purpose.
Shedding tears can be a healing experience. If you know why you are crying. Yep, it’s called CRYING WITH A PURPOSE.
We’ve heard it all before. Situations show up in your life to make you stronger. I get that. But haven’t there been certain times in your life when the situations just keep on coming, and it begs for the question to be asked: Just how strong can one person be? I mean, really – when is enough … ENOUGH?
Yesterday was that day for me.
So yesterday, I cried tears of frustration and tears of confusion because there are times when I just don’t get it. Days when the devil has so completely knocked me my off my square that I don’t see the path that shone so clearly just the week before. Thank goodness those days are few and far between.
But I had one yesterday, and I cried tears of pain – not only for myself, but for everyone who has ever felt the same way. I cried until my eyes stung too much to open, and my nose was too sore to blow. I cried so hard, I exhausted myself. Cried until there was nothing left to do but go to sleep. Funny how what was so distorted while you are awake becomes crystal clear when you are still enough to allow the divine light in you to shine. Even if that opportunity comes only when you are in the quietness of sleep.
When I woke up this morning, tears were a thing of the past. Today, I know I can still be stronger. So yes, the situations will continue to appear, ensuring that I continue to grow into my purpose.
And I’m sure tomorrow I will cry again. But this time, they will be tears of victory.
I share this poem with you by Iyanla Vanzant. She says it much more eloquently than I ever could.
Yesterday, I cried.
I came home, went straight to my room,
sat on the edge of my bed,
kicked off my shoes, unhooked my bra,
and I had myself a good cry.
I cried until my nose was running all over the silk blouse I got on sale.
I cried until my ears were hot.
I cried until my head was hurting so bad
that I could hardly see the pile of soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.
I want you to understand,
I had myself a really good cry yesterday.
Yesterday, I cried,
for all the days that I was too busy,
or too tired, or too mad to cry.
I cried for all the days, and all the ways,
and all the times I had dishonored, disrespected,
and disconnected my Self from myself,
only to have it reflected back to me in the ways others
did to me the same things I had already done to myself.
I cried for all the things I had given, only to have them stolen;
for all the things I had asked for that had yet to show up;
for all the things I had accomplished, only to give them away,
to people in circumstances, which left me feeling empty,
and battered and plain old used.
I cried because there really does come a time when the only thing left for you to do is cry.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because little boys get left by their daddies;
and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;
and daddies don’t know what to do, so they leave;
and mommies get left, so they get mad.
I cried because I had a little boy,
and because I was a little girl,
and because I was a mommy who didn’t know what to do,
and because I wanted my daddy to be there so badly until I ached.
Yesterday, I cried.
I cried because I hurt. I cried because I was hurt.
I cried because hurt has no place to go
except deeper into the pain that caused it in the first place,
and when it gets there, the hurt wakes you up.
I cried because it was too late.
I cried because it was time.
I cried because my soul knew that I didn’t know
that my soul knew everything that I needed to know.
I cried a soulful cry yesterday, and it felt so good.
It felt so very, very bad.
In the midst of my crying,
I felt my freedom coming,
Yesterday, I cried
with an agenda.