I do wonder, might there still be tears in heaven? Didn’t God create our bodies with glands to produce them, with eyes to glisten with them, with cheeks to display them? Though we weep at our lowest moments, don’t we also weep at our highest?
How many tears do we shed over the course of a lifetime? From the days of infancy when we cry out from hunger and discomfort, to the days of old age when we weep from the agony of physical pain and the sorrow of compounding loss, we are creatures who cry, creatures who express inward trauma with outward weeping. The path that leads from birth to Beulah is a path stained by tears.
It is little wonder, then, that many of the Bible’s promises are concerned with our sorrow, that they point us to a time when all tears will be dried, to a place where all weeping will be comforted. “Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy,” says the psalmist, and “weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” “He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces,” promises the prophet. Then, as the Bible comes to its final pages, John describes his vision of a multitude of saints joining their hearts in praise. They are in the presence of God, clothed in white robes, waving palm branches, and crying aloud in triumph, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” These now reveling in joy are the ones who have passed through the great tribulation, who have suffered grievously for the sake of the name of Jesus. How, then, can they be rejoicing? They can rejoice because they have received the promised reward, that “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”
What greater promise do we have than this, that in a moment God will comfort all sorrow, that his tender hand will wipe away not just some tears, but every tear?