TEARS

 

TEARS

March 20, 2026

Lately, my tears have been flowing pretty freely. They could break through during a movie, a short film, a personal encounter, a story, or even a slight glance. 

Sometimes it can be a curse to see pain as it exists in the present. Not all tears represent sadness, though. Over the last few years, I have learned that life contains beautiful moments of joy, happiness, and love. This should have been developed in my formative years, but those moments were spent in survival mode, figuring out the next hiding place or the next escape plan. So many tears were dropped in so many different places. Never to be found and lost in time. 

I want this story to uncover and define the tears of joy and the joy of sadness. The tears seem to come from the same aqueduct but from different regions of our hearts. That’s what makes this story both complex and simple at the same time. 

I spent most of my life fighting tears as if they were the enemy. I still fight them from time to time. The older I get, the more I lose this battle. Tears can jump out of my eyes in an instant. 

While I write, I usually play music in the background. I’m writing this story in my office, which also houses about four hundred vintage records. One of my favorites is playing right now, and it is speaking so loudly to me that I have to share it with you. I remember hearing this song for the first time when it was released in nineteen seventy-four, and it became my theme song; it describes my life as it was then. I encourage you to go and listen to it now. It’s called Haven’t Got Time for the Pain by Carley Simon, and it’s about moving past heartbreak and emotional struggles and choosing to focus on healing rather than dwelling on the hurt. It emphasizes letting go of the pain and not letting it take up space in your life. 

The pain I didn’t have time for then was buried deep in my soul, and I promised never to visit it or even shed a tear for it. It didn’t deserve the time or effort, as it had one goal, and that was to destroy me. I know we all have these memories, no matter how we grew up or what we encountered in life. We have a pain that we decided never to have the time for. This was my coping mechanism, and I believe it’s true for most of us. 

Turns out, some sixty years later, I had to find time for the pain, or it was going to end my life. This pain surfaced with a vengeance, and I didn’t know what to do with it. The tears flowed deep into the night, screaming unbearably in my mind. It became a voice in my life and started to control me. It would surface at any time; a simple grocery store or gas station visit would send me over the edge. My heart would start to pound, and I looked for a way out. 

Lisa, my sweet wife of forty years, sensed something was surfacing, and she knew it might be bigger than both of us. She has always had this second sense of my inner being and how it speaks. Her persistent question to me is always, “Are you ok?” She speaks her concern in the softest voice you could ever imagine. She follows with, “How can I help you?” Even today, she said, “I am here; I will shield you. I’m here for you.” She sees the struggle in my eyes, which opens a pathway to my pain, the gateway to my soul. 

One of the primary ways I’ve dealt with pain in the past is to separate from anything or anyone who causes it. It was so simple back then, and even now, I find myself falling back into that way of thinking. If it causes pain and tears, then I want to separate from it. Be it a story or a relationship, I end it and cut it off. No matter the cost, it has to go.

Over the last four years, I have learned that this is not a healthy way to deal with pain. The tears are still there, and these voices still seek to build a front and destroy. I believe I’ve made enormous progress over the last four years by learning to deal with pain; now my tears are turning from pain to joy. The tears flow from the joy of the relationships with friends and family. The healing in so many areas of my life has changed me. With every victory, there seems to be a counter to the pain that surfaces. 

The tears are recognized by what’s encapsulated in them. Every tear has a purpose. Some have the purpose of joy, and some have a purpose of pain release. You have to look at each tear that is released and question it. Why this tear? Look at it and discover the origin and the purpose, and then discover the extraordinary healing that tears can bring. Tears are like writers; they are storytellers.

If I haven’t said it yet in a way you can understand, your tears can lead you to death, or they can bring overwhelming joy to you. Your tears can bring your pain to the surface; it’s an opportunity to discover healing. There is one key element to this whole process: be willing to go down that path. 

The tears of joy are radiant and spontaneous, a sacred release of memories once held or new ones being formed. If placed under a microscope, they would shimmer with the language of love, mercy, and grace. These tears have the power to bring you to your knees, stirring a depth of emotion that words cannot explain. For so long, I’ve lived without them. Now they come quietly, mostly from moments with family members or through simple conversations of victory. Yes, the victories encountered over the last few years have brought these tears to existence. There is a river within me now, no longer held back and flowing freely without restraint.

There is an old saying: “Your past colors your future.” I believe that now, but we still have the power to choose the colors and how they are expressed. The tears of pain and suffering will rise; they are raw, unfiltered, and at times overwhelming. They demand to be acknowledged and not hidden deep in our souls. These tears are a raging river, carrying the weight of our most difficult seasons—the places where sin once took root, where wounds were inflicted, where we faltered, and where we were broken. It’s where torture took place, and it’s where death called us, but we didn’t answer. 

These tears of death are extremely heavy in so many lives today. Seek help from a friend, a spouse, a family member, or even a stranger who will listen. 

Tears are transparent, and when they are seen, they desire a response. Never be so busy that you bypass the opportunity to jump in and join the river of joy or the river of sadness. Both bring healing. Tears are telling a story of His amazing grace. Once lost but now found. Find time for the pain, or it will find your time.