There’s a softness in me that I used to struggle with.
A deep-feeling, heart-wide-open softness that shows up in the form of tears, often at the most inopportune moments.
For much of my life, I viewed this trait as a liability. A flaw I needed to hide or outgrow. Something to be embarrassed by. Something I needed to “toughen up” or manage.
Years ago, I shared a sentiment with my mom that’s still true today. I told her: the very thing she seemed to like least about herself, her tears, was one of the most beautiful things she passed down to me.
Whether she passed it down or not, those tears became a gift. Because alongside them came deep compassion. The ability to sit with someone in their pain. To cry with them. To feel what they feel. To witness life through a tender lens.
And in that same conversation, I remembered something else. Something small, yet profound:
John 11:35. “Jesus wept.”
Two of the most powerful words in the Bible.
The King of Kings. The miracle worker. The one who healed the sick and calmed the storm wept.
Not out of weakness, but out of love. Out of empathy. Out of sorrow. Out of presence.
That moment shifted something in me.
If Jesus can cry, then surely I can too.
Still, there have been seasons when my tears felt like too much. I’ve resented them. I’ve tried to push them down. I’ve wanted to “get it together” and stop being so emotional. Looking back, I can now see that some of those moments were magnified by hormones and hormonal imbalances. But even without that lens, my emotional nature is part of who I am.
And these days, I no longer see it as a fault or a weakness.
I see it as holy.
Tears are a release. They are truth exiting the body.
They say what words can’t.
They clear space. They soften us. They connect us.
They make room for whatever’s next.
So if you’re someone who cries easily, you’re not broken. You’re not too sensitive. You’re not weak.
You are alive. You are open. You are human.
Hold off on trying to fix it all today. For now, just be with the part of you that’s hurting. Be extra gentle. Cancel anything nonessential this weekend. You deserve rest. Aand zero guilt about it.
There is a time for everything.
Sometimes we don’t need to solve anything.
Sometimes we just need to breathe.
To feel.
To cry.
To let it all move through us.
Let the tears come if they need to. Let them be messy. Let them be holy.
And remember:
Jesus wept.
So if you’re weeping too,
Let it be enough.
©2025 Lori Ann King
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