“Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”-C.S. Lewis
I remember reading this in the devotional written by Charles Swindoll:
“Tears have a language all their own, a tongue that needs no interpreter. In some mysterious way, our complex inner-communication system knows when to admit its verbal limitations… and the tears come. Tears are not self-conscious. They can spring upon us when we are speaking in public, or standing beside others who look to us for strength.”
I admit, I easily cry. I admit that I easily drop those tears whenever I hear a story/testimony or see a movie I could relate to. Sometimes, my tears come from happiness, peace, and gratitude to my God. Oftentimes, those have flowed from misunderstandings, worry, fear, regrets, unanswered questions, and frustrations. And yet at the end of the day, I know, I have to move forward. I know have to press on because of the hope that I hold onto. That’s why the quote by C.S. Lewis struck me. It’s okay not to be okay at times. You may cry a river if you want to (which is good, rather than suppress what you really feel). But don’t get drowned in your own river. Don’t get so consumed by your feelings that you forget your purpose.
On the contrary, there are people who are afraid to cry. The world got blinded by the notion that crying makes one a weakling; weeping is only for the wimp. And because the world takes pride in those who it thinks are strong, people think that crying is a big no-no. So rather than setting yourself free through expressing what you really feel (in the right manner, of course), you hide yourself underneath the world’s wrong and misleading definition of strength. Perhaps, this is one of the greatest tragedies the world bears. Swindoll perfectly describes it: “The consequence is that we place a watchdog named “restraint” before our hearts. This animal is trained to bark, snap, and scare away any unexpected guest who seeks entrance. The ultimate result is a well-guarded, highly respectable, uninvolved heart surrounded by heavy bars of confinement. Such a structure resembles a prison more than a home where the tender Spirit of Christ resides.”
I remember the incident I cried out of frustration. I got so mad at myself for not understanding something. But instead of trying to conceal or run away from what I really feel, I embraced it. I yielded myself onto it until I was able to understand it and then let go of it. And the moment I shed those tears was when God’s love, grace, and peace flowed into me.
I know God hears my tears. Never did I regret every single tear I shed for something or someone. As Swindoll puts it: You might lose a little of your polished respectability, but you’ll have a lot more freedom. And a lot less pride.
How about you? Are you willing to cry for and/or with the Lord? 🙂