We took our first family road trip to Zion National Park. Among the incredible views and natural wonders, the fan favorite was a phenomenon known as “Weeping Rock.”
A quick ten minutes up a steep ascent leads you to an odd site: a mountain of stone…crying. Droplets of water fall on your head and over and over again, the question is asked: why is the mountain crying?
The rangers explain that water has slowly eroded sandstone sitting above Weeping Rock. The water hits seemingly impermeable stone, forcing drops out the sides of the mountain’s wall, causing nonstop crying. In other words, in one way or another, the tears just have to come out.
How many times have we felt an emotion rising within, an emotion ready to burst and instead, wish it away, embarrassed by our anger or sadness? Hoping that nobody sees how someone’s words cut our souls or actions deeply wound our inner beings.
When did it become commonplace to put on a poker face and project something different than what is screaming from within? A mountain that weeps is still called a rock. Will a person that cries ever be considered a symbol of strength?
The Psalmist reveals God’s relationship with our tears. “You keep count of my wanderings, put my tears into your bottle, into your record.” God listens to our cries, keeps track of our tears. No shame, only acceptance.
Why does the rock in Zion weep tears that never seem to stop? The mountain’s tears attract millions of visitors year after year. And the continuous drops of water nourish the plants and vegetation below. Let us permit ourselves to walk a path of vulnerability, revealing our emotions. Just as the Zion rock’s visitors never seem to wane, perhaps we’ll realize that our own tears bring those we need ever closer. Nourishing their spirits, as well as our own. Tears that penetrate the heart and help us feel God’s love.
Shabbat Shalom
