What Are These Sudden Tears When I Pray?
Fifteen minutes of sobbing in my car, followed by total peace? Am I crazy? (Plus how to carry others' pain so it doesn’t crush us.)
Once a long-time acquaintance came to visit. He was a precious brother in Christ, who also spent large portions of his life homeless. He was fighting various challenging things, including deep, deep grief that went back forty years. What a gift, to hear stories from this old, struggling saint.
But when he left, I felt emotionally off.
That evening, I headed out to the car for some alone time. I started a worship song, and almost instantly, I was wracked with sobs. I was almost convulsing, crying so hard for all the wasted years of this brother in Christ, all the grief, all the lies, all the pain.
After perhaps 15 minutes, I said, “Here, Jesus. I am not strong enough to carry this pain. You do it.”
Then I was done wailing. Jesus took any residual sadness, and I left the car and went about my day as if nothing had happened.
From the outside, this must have looked rather surreal.
I talked to my mentor Scott Anderson about this experience. “I was wailing for 15 minutes, but then I was just done. No more sadness. No residual pain.”
He chuckled and said, “You know what that is, right?”
“No! I have no idea! Tell me!”
That’s the broken heart of God, grieving over the wasted years. You were experiencing what the Lord feels, that deep travail, the deep ache and mourning—that’s what God feels. When you feel the hurt and anger—the agony!—the Lord is saying, “I weep over you like this.”
Even if you’re shut down emotionally, God is still weeping over you like this.
It’s a classic intercession gift. Levity, anger—these also are all parts of the Father’s feeling. If you ever grow deeply angry over injustice—that’s a taste of the wrath of God. Think of Jesus whipping people in the Temple, because the people misrepresented God. They were terrified.
The weeping is a form of prayer, perhaps a type of the way the Spirit groans.
You can say to God, “Thank you for sharing some of your heart.”
This kind of prayer is meant for a time. And when the time is done, then, yes, the tears stop. That’s not crazy. That’s very normal.
What a blessing, to have such a clear answer.
What a blessing, to be given such a gift.
What a blessing, to have a car to sit in and wail.
Jesus, thank you that you came to bear our griefs and carry our sorrows. Thank you that we get to give our sorrows to you.
Lord, I think about the time a friend visited, and how, after four hours sitting with him in his pain, I walked around for the next three days almost dazed, so overwhelmed with the grief he felt.
I thought this was holy, that I was, in some way, obeying Paul’s instruction in Galatians to “bear one another’s burdens.”
But now I suspect that a more healthy response would have been to grieve with my friend in the moment, to pray as I felt led, and then, when he left, to bear those burdens to you, Jesus, so you would carry them.
Thank you for your strong shoulders. Amen.
The God of love and peace will be with you,
Amy Joy
P.S. My friend Tara wrote: “We aren’t crazy if, all of a sudden while praying, we start crying/sobbing and then we are fine after. I used to think I was bipolar, so learning about weeping intercession was a relief.” Agreed!
P.P.S. This comes from the Prayer Refresh: Expansion, with simple prayers to pray over your neighborhood, community, and the wider world.