Teen Tears

When I was in high school, I wasn’t a crier. I would see people crying and see through their tears how shallow it really was. They would cry to feel better, that is all. I remember when one of the girls in the youth group came to the group and talked about how she had sex before marriage and was now pregnant. Some of the girls came and cried by themselves, then it must have been too much, because they were soon laughing and having a good time. The girl was left there all alone while the other youth group girls were in a circle gigling. The weight of tears was too much for them.

But the girl who was talking wasn’t laughing with them. She was still in her pain, and they left her alone. I hated the idea of having an emotion getting in the way of caring for someone. I felt strongly and I felt with strength. I was moved greatly, but I longed to be moved towards the other person. I saw this people as weak, and their tears were not helping the person who needed it, it was separating them.

Now I cry all the time. I cry at church, I cry when I watch Oprah, I cry when I read Harry Potter. I don’t really cry for myself, but that is another issue. I cry so easily for emotional stories that my little brother warned my wife that “Finding Nemo” might be too much for me. My path to crying took many years and is connected with me being more connected with myself. But I don’t even want to loose sight of the reason for my crying.

I now I see that in high school I was longing to love in strength, not in my weakness. I believed that another person needed to feed off my strength. But now I know that I can’t sustain another person. When I cry I show my weakness. I reveal that I have also been hurt, damaged, destroyed. If I can name this hurt, and be not afraid of it, then live in it, then let another in, then they can join me and we can live together in our pain. That is usually a good start.