“Your tears are Precious to Me.”

He shows me a glass jar. A whole collection of them. Some fuller, some not so full. Each of them containing tears like brilliant, liquid diamonds. Each of them labeled.

He touches the tear rolling down my cheek.

And I know, this tear is not lost. This tear was not in vain.

He sees them.

He collects them.

Every single one.

Our tears are precious to Him.