I cry a lot. Not the kind of you-should-feel-sorry-for-John, uncomfortable, ugly tears every single day type of crying, but not the sweet, delicate, I’m-so-pretty-when-I-cry type of crying either. Somewhere in the middle, but once I start, I can’t stop.

Even when my mind is strong and my heart is full, I cry. My mind tells my eyes to “GET IT TOGETHER!” but they continue to leak. I can be genuinely happy and in a strong spot in life but if the person I’m talking to blinks and even slightly resembles a red nose preparing to shed a tear, I’m done.

Crying is usually perceived as weakness, especially in men, because it makes a person vulnerable. To me, being vulnerable is one of greatest strengths a person can have. After a good long cry, I usually feel like a weight is lifted and a wave of peace comes over me. God hears my cry and then I start thinking about the way He hears me and how He has seen me in my darkest days and that He STILL loves me.

By now, you’re probably thinking, “Hey, Jayme. You need to chill and up your meds because you’re a hot mess. No one should be delving on tears on the internet and not expect a few red flags, especially when you’re always so open about your problems. Is this a cry (get it, cry, pun intended) for help or are you just trying to redeem yourself after you publicly cried to strangers on Wednesday?”

My response to you: I promise, I’m mentally stable and not going to pull a Jesse Spano excited/scared freak out sesh. I just want to address the beauty of crying to try to take the stigma away that it’s a sign of weakness!

The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:17-18

How do I know God hears me?

Psalm 18:6   In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears.

THIS! One thing I cry about more than I thought I would is about the miscarriage. It catches me totally off guard, when I realize I should be prepping a nursery right now and reading books to Gus about how to welcome the new baby. My tears are not out of anger or even sadness, really. They are my way of connecting with my lost child and crying out to tell the Lord to give that baby a special hug and tell my baby I love him/her so much, that I’m so thankful to know my baby is in Heaven, where no pain will ever be felt and while I may cry, here on earth, I’m crying out to the Lord to say Thank You. Thank You for making my heart so open to know that You will answer any prayer I place at your feet.

What a beautiful gift from my Father that I may walk through tears and weeping, HAPPY.