Nocturnal Emission

I awoke in the middle of the night to tears. Eye sockets and cheeks full of salty sorrow, come from some dream I'd been dreaming. I so wanted to recall the reason for crying, but I couldn't. I stilled myself, tried to step back into those last thoughts, but to no avail. The dream was gone. Grief visited me and all that remained was its residue.

I wonder...
if I wept for the husband who was sent home yesterday, probably not to return to his job today or tomorrow or ever.

if I wept for the wife of the husband who was sent home yesterday, desperately rubbing that verse from Romans like a rosary.

if I wept for the friend who writes from a true place but had her sensual words criticized recently by a couple of people more concerned about God's reputation than God is.

if I wept for the man who fixes refrigerators, who is recently divorced and now sees his precious son only "some of the time."

if I wept for the little girl afraid to go to sleep last night because the darkness was too dark.

if I wept for the man who feels little if anything these days except loneliness.

if I wept for the lady who wonders where the money will come from for Christmas gifts.

if I wept for the Israeli and Palestinian faces who know that one more conference is just a photo opportunity.

if I wept for the husbandless families who hear the phrase "happy holidays" and behind the patriotism cannot figure out how you could be happy when daddy got killed in Iraq.

if I wept because I heard that Christmas song just before falling asleep that talks of "peace on earth."

Have mercy upon us, O LORD, have mercy, for we have had more than enough of contempt.

I cannot remember why the tears came, but they came. And so I begin this day with a face touched by the signature of grief. Maybe I wept for you...and me.