Sunday is a day of rest for many, but for me, it’s also become a day that often includes a few tears.
It began during the Covid-19 shutdown in the spring of 2020, during the weeks when we watched church services online via the TV in our basement family room. It had been about a year since my parents died, and it seemed like every service had at least one song or reference that reminded me of them.
I couldn’t have stopped the tears even if I had tried, so I just let them flow. My family began to expect it, even, and having tissues handy became part of our regular getting-ready-for-church-in-the-basement routine (along with hooking the TV up to the laptop and connecting to the livestream).
The outdoor services that we attended later that the summer didn’t evoke much emotion, but when we returned indoors that fall, my eyes began watering again.
I know opinions about wearing masks vary widely, but one irrefutable benefit is that they make good tear catchers. And my child-size masks from Old Navy caught a lot of tears over the winter.
I’ve mentioned before that I’ve never been a big crier. In fifth grade, for example, when all my classmates were sobbing as we watched Where the Red Fern Grows, I shed nary a tear.
I used to think that this meant there was something wrong with me. After living with myself for several decades and observing people around me, though, I’ve come to understand that it’s simply how I’m wired.
I’m not afraid to cry. But when I experience deep loss, I tend to process it first by thinking. (A lot, and often in the middle of the night.) It’s only later—sometimes much later—that tears become part of my grief.
Often, music is the thing that triggers the tears. Which brings us back to Sunday mornings.
Just being at church and seeing multiple generations of families sitting together calls to mind the years we went to the same church as my parents, and how we used to sit with my dad during services after my mom went to live in the nursing home. The tears come when we sing hymns that remind me of my mom or songs that mention heaven or lyrics that talk about life after death and Christ’s return.
Does anyone other than my family notice? I don’t know, but it’s OK if they do.
And who knows? Maybe other people are struggling to hold back their tears and seeing mine might give them the freedom to let them flow.
These days, I don’t cry at church nearly as much as I used to. When I do, though, it almost feels like an act of worship. It reminds me of the godly heritage I have, of the blessing of warm memories, of the day when God will wipe away every tear from our eyes.
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I’m guessing I’m not the only one who gets watery eyes at church from time to time. Please feel free to share in the comments if tears have ever been a part of your worship experience.
♥ Lois
The tears come at church when we sing hymns that remind me of my mom or songs that mention heaven or lyrics that talk about Christ’s return. Click To Tweet When I cry at church, it reminds me of the godly heritage I have, of the blessing of warm memories, of the day when God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Click To TweetP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
Photo by Esther Ware
20 comments
I remember crying during Praise & Worship during my last three pregnancies – it was when the tears came that I realized each time I was pregnant – I’m not much of a crier. However, I have noticed more and more that when I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit, I respond with tears. Some people shout their praise; so often my shouts are tears.
This is beautiful, Maryleigh: “Some people shout their praise; so often my shouts are tears.” Mine too, for sure! So interesting that tears at church clued you into your pregnancies. 🙂
I agree, tears can be an act of worship. I am not a big crier either, but the first few months at my current church I’d start as soon as the worship began most weeks. I think I was just so grateful to be part of a church where I felt like I belonged. It still happens sometimes but not as often now.
Lesley, feeling like you belong at last can definitely evoke emotion! Hugs, friend!
I cry often during praise songs at church these days. Often overcome with how good He is. Sometimes overwhelmed with His presence into my hard places. One time in particular comes to mind. My husband got a phone call during the praise service one Sunday that a family member had died. He came back in, whispered it to me and we both continued singing and crying. All I could think of was that this family member was getting to sing in the face of our Savior as she got her reward.
Oh wow, Lauren. What a powerful experience of worship! I’m thankful–for myself and for you–that we have the gift of music to help us process our emotions and draw near to God during the joyful times as well as the difficult days. Hugs, friend.
I love how you describe tears as an act of worship, Lois. Also how you learned there is nothing wrong with you when you think and process first and cry later. God knows the best way for each of us, doesn’t He? This brought to mind the hymn No Tears In Heaven. And it prompted me to look up this verse where Job cried out, “My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God; on behalf of a man he pleads with God as one pleads for a friend.” Thank you for blessing me, my friend! Love and blessings of healing tears to you!
Oh yes, Trudy … God absolutely “knows the best way for each of us.” Thank you for sharing the song … I don’t think I had ever heard it before. And the verse too … I’m sure I’ve read it but it means so much to read it here. Hugging you from a distance, dear friend!
I process this way too, Lois, “I’m not afraid to cry. But when I experience deep loss, I tend to process it first by thinking.” Then the tears come later.
It’s good to know I’m not alone in this, Lisa. It’s interesting … I didn’t really understand this about myself until maybe two years after my parents died. Life is such a learning process, isn’t it? 🙂
I understand your tears, Lois. When we first began attending our new church, I cried almost every service because I felt so moved by the worship and the freedom to worship. There are so many triggers to our tears.
Lisa, your response at your new church sounds very familiar. 🙂 I’m so glad you found a place to worship where you felt so at home.
Lois, your sweet spirit touches my heart. I cry easily too, and never thought much about it. But God has steadily showed me the beauty of tears. In fact, working in hospice, I often see alot of tears, and feel bad when people apologize for crying at odd times. But trly as I share often, your tears honor your loved ones, never apologize for tears! The come from the depths of a heart full of love.
Oh Donna … do the families you work with realize how blessed they are to have you with them during these saddest of times? 🙂 (I’m sure they do.) I’m with you in wishing people wouldn’t apologize for tears … they’re healing and therapeutic and, as you say, a beautiful way to honor our loved ones. Not a sign of weakness and certainly not anything to be embarrassed about!
It makes my heart glad to know you felt free enough to let your tears flow. Those tears are healing tears. And yes, worshipful tears. You are the product of spiritual legacy. Those song lyrics remind you of the intentionality of your parents as you grew up going to church. I think you’re right, others are holding back their tears. Hopefully, your freedom will be contagious and the church may need to buy more tissue boxes.
Oh Calvonia … you have blessed MY heart through your words today. The more time passes, the more grateful I am for the spiritual legacy of my parents. (And I was pretty grateful to start with!)
I know this may sound silly, but I was blessed in reading this post. I cry easily in church, in conversation, when reading Scriptures. Last week I was in a zoom prayer meeting and was moved to tears just to be praying with a few other people. Psalm 56:8: “You have collected all my tears in your bottle.” When I first took note of that Scripture, it brought me such peace. If God is collecting our tears, they are precious to Him. There are some of us who are going to have a lot of bottles and I’m OK with that! xo
I’m OK with that too, Joanne. I can easily imagine you being one who cries easily … your tender heart comes out very clearly in your writing. (Your comment doesn’t sound silly at all, by the way!)
Lois, God.is using your tenderness to speak to others — NOT the least of whom will be your family.
Aw, thank you, Michele. This is yet another one of those areas that I never really paid attention to with my parents, but I know my girls are watching. I hope they remember the helpful parts when they are my age or in this season of life. 🙂