“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matt. 5:4
I waited in my car for the early September frost to melt from my view and grimaced as I finished an inventory check: phone, purse, wallet, bags. It was a much shorter list than a few days earlier when the car was filled with my daughter and most of her earthly belongings. To hold back the threatening tears, I clenched my teeth as my hands gripped the steering wheel. Forcing the car into drive, I pulled out of the parking lot leaving my daughter behind in her campus dorm and headed for home, a 4,500 km journey east. It was the hardest moment of my life.
I chose the quiet prairie roads over the soon-to-be busy highway and I was gifted with a view of majesty. The golden prairie fields, ripe for harvest, glistened. They were painted with a heavy frost and the brilliant hues of the rising sun. Stalks of wheat stretched to meet the warmth of the rays. I pulled over to soak in the beauty and capture it with my camera. This was a gift which lifted my spirits for the 12-hour drive ahead. I had two and a half provinces to cross that day, the road extending before me a straight flat asphalt line toward a never-reached horizon. I distracted myself with music and sermons and the God-given determination to get as close to home as I could.
The next day I proceeded in the same manner—face set toward the east, running from sorrow which galloped fast at my heels. I came to an exit on the highway where, on our way west a few days earlier, I fretted because we were in the middle of nowhere and almost out of gas. As I drove past the exit, the heartache I was fleeing overtook me—a rushing wave swirling, pulling me into its torrent. I was left overwhelmed, fearful and sobbing.
Eventually I pulled into a rest-stop along the shore of Lake Superior and sat on the beach. I was alone on the sand of an inlet called Old Woman Bay—fitting name for the quiet sanctuary it proved to be.
I found solace in that place as I prayed, wept and mourned. I mourned from a deep sense of loss as my beloved daughter had now left the nest and entered adult life. I mourned from regret, the could’ve-should’ve-would’ve’s of motherhood. I feared for her now dwelling in an unknown town amongst strangers so far from her home. As I surrendered my daughter into God’s good care and stopped trying to be God myself, peace and relief flooded my heart. God’s comfort surrounded me like the hills secluding Old Woman Bay, strengthening me for the rest of the journey home.
The first sermon Jesus preached during his early ministry was intended to turn the traditional thinking of his hearers (and readers of today) inside-out and upside-down. The Sermon on the Mount begins with eight clear directions to ultimate happiness called the Beatitudes, each one beginning with the words, “Blessed are those….” Blessed means true and lasting happiness. And as we read through these Beatitudes, we see that biblical happiness is contrary to our normal understanding. The way to genuine happiness grates against our natural bent and we want to flee from it. But if we are to be happy, we must learn the way to such a blessed state.
Beatitude # 2: Blessed are Those who Mourn
Crying in our day is branded as a weakness and something to be ashamed of. We flee it at any cost. But Scripture says that in order to find true happiness, we must first mourn. Sounds upside-down, doesn’t it? And it is. The road God has designed and mapped out for our lasting, eternal happiness, is completely opposite than the road we would expect to take:
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matt. 5:4
There are two kinds of mourning. One is our sorrow about a situation, like the sorrow I experienced as I left my daughter at college some 4,500 kms away from home. Those who are God’s children are comforted in times like this, as I was.
Another kind of mourning is a deep sorrow over our sin. Before we can have the kind of comfort God gives in difficult circumstances, we must first mourn over our sin; and it is the second stop on our journey to happiness. The first stop was humility in acknowledging that we are unable to do anything for our spiritual selves.
Jesus calls blessed those who mourn over their sin. Once we realize we cannot make ourselves right before God, deep sorrow is the natural response. Our eyes opened, we now understand for the first time what our sin is—rebellion against a holy God—and admit it. This mourning is what the Bible calls godly sorrow. It produces repentance and leads to true salvation. Scripture assures us that those who mourn over their sin will receive the comfort of forgiveness and salvation.
The instant we face our sin in humility and repentance, the instant we admit it and believe, we are comforted beyond our wildest imaginations—earthly comfort here in peace and forgiveness, and eternal comfort in heaven where we will one day weep no more. These challenging but precious words of Scripture show the process of the kind of mourning Jesus calls blessed:
“For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.” (Psalm 51:3-4)
“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.” (James 4:8-10)
Christians are not spared the difficulties and sorrows of this world. But we do have a great Comforter in our valleys. Along that shore of Old Woman Bay, God proved true to his promise which he has given us in his Word: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” I mourned, and I was deeply comforted. As long as I ran, I was neither mourning, nor able to be comforted. Instead I was tense and apprehensive. As I stopped, rested and allowed myself to mourn, I was so blessed and comforted.
Whether you’re coming to the Lord for the first time with your sin, or a long-time saint in a deep valley of trial, blessed are you who mourn, for you will find comfort.
“Heaven is the joy of our Lord; a mountain of joy, to which our way is through a {valley} of tears. Such mourners will be comforted by their God.” Matthew Henry
Take Up and Read
Matthew Ch. 5-7
Psalm 51
Isaiah 61:1-3
The Light for My Path 
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