Weeping

There’s a kind of weeping that bypasses intellect and image—it’s lament, raw and sacred. I’ve wept in hospital rooms, behind pulpits, and in prayer, not from compassion fatigue, but from a deep ache that words can’t touch. These tears have become a gift, softening my leadership and deepening my manhood. When Jesus wept at Lazarus’s tomb, He wasn’t confused—He was moved by love. He grieved the fracture of creation. And so must we. Weeping isn’t weakness; it’s incarnation. It’s how we join others in pain and long for restoration. Romans 12 commands it. Jesus models it. Courage calls for it.