Tears in a Bottle and the Counting of Tossings

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Psalm 56:8 ESV
You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?

I take comfort in the fact that my Lord puts my tears his bottle. He saves them; he gives my pain value. Like rainwater held for a later time, when the drought comes, the time when I do not shed tears and I’ve forgotten the salty touch of them on my tongue and the sadness in my very marrow, he shows me my tears that I might see that yes, He cared. Yes, He remembered. He took notice. He made it a priority to rectify my pain.
At a later time, I will look at the rainwater tears and know that my God held me up, steadfast when I thought my legs would fail. But they did not.

I take comfort in the fact that He takes count of my tossings–when I can’t sleep at night for worrying about things that I have little power over. He notices when the pillow bunches hot from my crying. He cares when my blanket is wound around my legs like a rope. He believes in me when my eyes cannot close to the stirrings of worry in my heart. He is Abba, Daddy. He touches my forehead and tells me to rest now. That He is in control.

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