Cry.

"Unto thee will I cry, O Lord my rock; be not silent to me: lest, if thou be silent to me, I become like them that go down into the pit." — Psalms 28:1

"A cry is the natural expression of sorrow, and a suitable utterance when all other modes of appeal fail us; but the cry must be alone directed to the Lord, for to cry to man is to waste our entreaties upon the air. When we consider the readiness of the Lord to hear, and his ability to aid, we shall see good reason for directing all our appeals at once to the God of our salvation. It will be in vain to call to the rocks in the day of judgment, but our Rock attends to our cries."

"And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God’s own will. (Romans 8:26, 27 NLT)"

A few nights back, I took the time to watch the a composite broadcast of the events of 9/11. Viewing those events, though not surprisingly, quickly regarded me as uncontrollably debilitated in sadness. Though rarely a cryer, the sheer affectation of those moments in our history produces in me an uncompromising despondency that, well, relatively in my life, though more pronounced in the lives of others more directly affected, takes the afflicted to a place of solemnity that tends to produce both vigor and antipathy in those who dwell there.

One particular striking moment, though to my own, was that of Diane Sawyer's reaction as the North Tower fell. As she witnessed the tower collapse to the ground, noticeably on at least three different occasions, she tried to appropriate the correct words to capture the moment, however in the instance of each attempt, the words would overlap each other, become garbled, and finish with barely a whimper. Even a veteran communicator such as Sawyer, who is well versed in communicating significant messages, was utterly crippled under the weight of such a moment. The heaviness of such an affliction had surpassed her own ability to capture the unfolding's of the day. She had reached the end of understanding and broached the beginnings of the devastating.

Our cries so routinely convert to a last resort. Often when our own strength and resolve reach their limit, then, and regrettably only then, do we speak to the savior with the entirety of our hearts affliction. Only when we encounter him, when we intentionally seek him, do we witness the readiness of him to appeal to us and offer aid. But to merely "waste our entreaties upon the air" as Spurgeon so puts it, voids our ability to cry to the spirit as a counselor. Our cries were not meant to be wasted breaths, it was designed as a holy petition, to in which our heart calls louder the spirit than our words are able. When we plead, when we cry, we desire a harmony and healing greater than what the words we produce are able to recognize.  As Isaiah 12 predicts cries and anguish to God, God is first identified a counselor. "I praise you, O Lord, for even though you were angry with me, your anger subsided, and you consoled me." Upon our covenant with the Holy Spirit, we not only plea with the spirit itself, but the spirit pleads those to the Father.

So fear not the cry, for it is nary meant to debilitate. Our hearts desire communion with the father just as readily though our weeping as through our praises.