Can our heart and spirit hold rejoicing and weeping at the same time? I recently experienced an unexpected opportunity to see for myself. Over the past few months I’ve had some medical tests and procedures that were a bit concerning. Back in the summer my primary care doctor noticed my prostate specific antigen (PSA) numbers from my annual physicals the past two years was steadily going up. So, he referred me to a urologist for follow up. After a few additional doctor office visits and MRI of my prostate, they found a small lesion that was rated a PIRADS 3 on a scale of 1-5. Now, for those who don’t know, on that scale, 1 or 2 usually means not likely to be cancer, 3 or 5 usually means likely to be cancer, and 3 is right in the middle, rated “equivocal” which means basically we don’t know, 50/50 is could or couldn’t be cancer. So, they ordered a surgical procedure to do a prostate biopsy and collect 13 core samples for the pathologist to test. After the procedure the paperwork said it could take 10-14 working days for results. Given my family’s high rate of cancer, I of course was extremely anxious waiting on the results.
Thankfully, within a week the results came back, and all 13 biopsy samples were negative (benign) meaning no cancer. I was so happy, thankful, and rejoicing in the news. But I also felt a strong sense of guilt at being thankful and wanting to rejoice because so many of my friends and family around me were not getting such good news. I reached out to a pastor and friend who I’d recently discussed the prostate health issues with, and he reminded me of the bible scripture that says we “rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15). It reminded me that being thankful and rejoicing in blessings and good news for ourselves and others can coexist in the same space and time as weeping for ourselves and others in times of challenge, difficulty, or sorrow. It reminded me of when I first learned this lesson as a young child in 1977 in Georgia.
It was my Granny Smith’s funeral in 1977. I was only 7 years old, and Daddy’s family was huge even back then. There were 11 kids, many with five kids (grandchildren) each and many great grandchildren. So, it was a large family funeral and burial service. Two things stand out in my memory from that funeral are the weeping and rejoicing. First, the weeping and wailing of my aunts at the passing of their mama, a pain I would know all too well many years later when my own mama passed away. There’s nothing like it when your mother and father dies. The only other grief I’ve witnessed that seemed equally unique is the grief of parents saying goodbye to a child that has died before them. I watched many of my friends and family members, including my Granny Sis (Hazel Mae) bury their children. That is equally heartbreaking, and I’ve wept alongside them. Since Granny Smith’s funeral in 1977, I’ve attended many funerals for family and friends and wept alongside other mourners to say goodbye to our loved ones.
At the same time, the second thing I remember from Granny Smith’s funeral was the laughter, happiness, and celebration of the life of my Granny Smith, and sharing favorite stories of the family growing up. The tears and laughter, rejoicing and weeping, coexisted together. I’ve witnessed these same experiences of rejoicing, laughter, happiness, and celebration of life at other funerals, memorials, and life celebrations over the years, and shared in those positive emotions, remembering happier times and celebrating the life of our loved one who has died. It reminds me of my favorite line from one of my favorite movies, Steel Magnolias, when Dolly Parton’s character Truvy, says during a sad moment, “laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.” It reminds all of us that laughter and tears, rejoicing and weeping, can coexist at the same time in us.
I’m reminded of a more recent family story that demonstrates the coexistence of both emotions and responses. One of my cousins recently lost her husband to cancer at a young age. The same day her husband died, her first grandchild was born, in the same hospital. I can’t think of a more emotionally challenging time and experience to be weeping for your husband that has passed away at the same time while you are rejoicing at the birth of a healthy first grandchild, her grandson. But my cousin rallied, and she held both rejoicing and weeping in her heart and spirit at the same time. She’s such a strong woman and sets an example for all of us. She inspires me so much with her strength and how big her heart is and capacity to love.
Going back to present day. So, the words from my pastor friend and my reflection gave me the awareness and strength to hold both my thankfulness and rejoicing and sadness and weeping with others at the same time. I am thankful and rejoice for my good health news of the biopsy results showing no cancer. And at the same time I am saddened and weep together with family and friends who have recently lost a husband, wife, parent or child, got bad news on health test results, continue dealing with ongoing health issues, face terminal illness with a parent or themselves, spouse or close friend(s), or have been laid off from their jobs and not sure what the future holds for them.
I can be thankful and rejoice for myself and others in their happiness and good news, while also weeping and holding space to comfort and help others who are saddened and weeping at this time. One doesn’t have to exist without the other. They can coexist together, which is what life is all about. And as one of my other favorite sayings goes, “we are all just walking each other home.”
As always, I encourage you to reflect on your own stories and experiences with rejoicing and weeping at the same time, and how it shows up in your life. I hope this story helps each of you in your journey and prompts you to think of your own related stories that may help you as you encounter similar situations. And I am always interested in hearing and learning from all of you and your related stories because as always, Your Story Matters.
