The Tear Collector

A Single Tear by Kim Peters

I’ve never seen so many tears.

I’ve never seen so many tears fall.

They pour from a deep well, a bottomless pit.

I’ve never seen so many tears. 

I’ve never seen so many tears fall.

I reach over and brush my fingertips across your soft cheek.

It’s wet.

I wipe your tears.

More tears fall.

It’s a waterfall, a beautiful waterfall.

“No shame, my sister, cry, cry.”

Your heart is crushed, full of pain.

Your soul is broken, shattered to pieces.

“No shame, my sister, cry, cry.”

There’s a bottle in His hand.

A precious bottle with your name.

He holds it gently in His hand.

A precious bottle with your name.

It says “Habiba,” and it’s yours.

A precious bottle with your name.

It holds your tears, each one that falls.

A precious bottle with your name.

“No shame, my sister, cry, cry.”

He is the Tear Collector, the one who holds,

A precious bottle with your name.

Next to the bottle is a book.

A precious book with your name.

In it, He records each tear.

In it, He records each story.

A precious book with your name.

He sees it all, He knows it all.

The silent tears, the secret tears.

The ones that fall in the night.

The ones that no one sees.

He sees it all, He knows it all.

He won’t forget, each tear, each story.

He is the Tear Collector, the one who holds,

A precious bottle with your name.

He sees each tear that falls.

He won’t forget.

“No shame, my sister, cry, cry.”

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

Psalm 56:8—The Bible NIV