I cry my tears, you dry it up for me.

 I Cried My Tears, and You Dried Them for Me

I cried my tears—when the night was long and deep,

When sorrow pressed and I could not sleep.

The rivers flowed from a wounded heart,

And I felt my world was falling apart.

You have taken account of my wanderings; put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? (Psalm 56:8)

And You dried them for me—not with a word of shame,

Not with a lecture or a lesson to claim.

But with the gentle touch of a Father's hand,

With the quiet presence that helps me stand.

You did not turn away from my salty flood.

You did not despise my broken mood.

You came close, so close, in the dark of my grief,

And whispered, "Child, I bring relief."

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. (Revelation 21:4)

So now, when tears threaten to fall again,

I remember the One who has been my friend.

Not that I will never weep anymore,

But that my tears are safe at heaven's door.

Thank You for drying them—one by one.

Thank You for staying until the weeping was done.

I cried my tears, and You dried them for me.

You are my comfort, my peace, my security.

Amen.