Through the Tears, I Grow

 

There are seasons when the world's weight feels unbearable—days when exhaustion settles deep into your bones and the simplest tasks feel impossible—and nights filled with whispered prayers and unspoken heartache. You fight to stay strong, but the weariness lingers. The tears come freely, sometimes without warning—gentle reminders that your heart is holding more than it can carry.

I know that feeling. I've lived it. And if you're there right now, if the heaviness feels unshakable, I want you to know that you are not alone.

Some days, strength feels abundant. You wake up with the resolve to show up, serve, and love with everything you have—pouring yourself into others like you'll never run empty. On other days, even getting out of bed feels like an uphill battle. No grand victories, just quiet, unseen ones—a brushed-through tangle in your hair, a whispered prayer through aching tears, the simple act of breathing. But both days matter. Both are real. And neither makes you any less worthy, strong, or you.

Healing isn't measured by how much you accomplish in a day. True strength emerges not in loud victories but in the quiet determination to keep holding on. And, sister, even on days when you can do nothing but exist, you are still growing, evolving, and enough.

Sister, I see you. I feel your heartache, struggle, and quiet battles that no one else notices. And I want you to hear this: God is not absent even in the middle of the mess, even in the depths of sorrow. He is near. He sees the pain, collects every tear, and holds you closer than you realize.

"Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy." —Psalm 126:5

The Power of Tears

We often see tears as signs of weakness, but they are far from it. Tears are proof that you feel deeply, that you love strongly, that you care immensely. They tell a story of loss, longing, surrender, and healing. Every tear that falls is a conversation with God, an unspoken prayer from the depths of your soul. And He hears them all.

Psalm 56:8 reminds us that God doesn't just see our sorrow; He treasures it. "You keep track of all my sorrows. Tears are a wonderful way of uniting us, creating a safe space to comfort each other. We can share, "God supported me through tough times, and He'll be here for you too!" I'll hold your hand while you find your way to Him." Tears remind us that we are never truly alone in our suffering. Someone else has been there, has felt it, has walked through it—and by the grace of God, has made it through. And so will you.

"You have collected all my tears in your bottle." How comforting is that? Every tear you've shed is known. None are wasted. None are forgotten.

But in the moment, it may feel like you're drowning, like sadness is swallowing you whole. You may feel buried beneath the weight of your circumstances, unseen, unnoticed, struggling to break free. If that's where you are, let me remind you: You are not buried but planted.

Planted, Not Buried

Think of yourself as a seed pressed into the soil. At first, the darkness feels suffocating. The weight of the dirt above seems too heavy to bear. Everything familiar disappears, and you wonder if you've been forgotten. But what looks like a burial is the beginning of something new. The pressure, depth, and solitude are all part of the process. Growth happens in hidden places. Roots take hold before blooms ever appear. Even when you can't see it, God works beneath the surface, strengthening, preparing, and bringing you into a flourishing season.

This period of waiting, wrestling, and uncertainty is not wasted. It's watering the ground for what's to come. You may feel hidden now, but sister, you are growing.

Healing Through Faith

Healing doesn't always happen the way we expect. Sometimes, it's slow and quiet, a series of small steps rather than a grand transformation. Other times, it's messy—a mix of progress and setbacks, strength and sorrow. But no matter the journey, God remains constant. He is the steady hand guiding you through, the light shining even in the darkest corners.

Often, we think we must have it all together to be used by God. We must be strong enough, healed enough, and ready enough. But it's in the middle of the struggle that He meets us most intimately. In the tears, longing, and questions, He is there. And He is enough.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." —2 Corinthians 12:9

You don't have to carry this alone. You don't have to rush your healing. Permit yourself to rest in His presence, to trust that His timing is perfect—even when it feels impossible.

A Note to You, Beautiful Daughter of God

If you are walking through grief, heartbreak, transition, or silent battles such as depression, anxiety, confusion, doubt, or loss of a loved one, hold on.

Keep showing up.

Keep praying.

Keep trusting.

Even if all you can do is whisper His name through the tears—that's enough. He's not disappointed in your weakness. He's drawing near because of it.

You are growing.

You are healing.

You are becoming.

Your sorrow does not define you—God's love does. And that love will sustain you, carry you, and bring you through this season stronger than before.

Don't give up. There is purpose in your pain, and joy is coming.

Prayer:

"Lord, help me to trust You when my heart feels broken. Use my tears to water something beautiful. Grow me in Your love, in Your timing, and in Your truth. Let me testify to grace and growth, even in the hard seasons.

Remind me of Your faithfulness in moments of doubt, and help me lean into Your promises. May your light shine through my struggles, illuminating the path ahead. Teach me to find joy in the journey and peace in the waiting. Surround me with Your presence, reminding me that I am never alone. Help me extend the same grace to others that You have given me, allowing my experiences to be a source of hope and encouragement. I trust in Your plan and believe You are weaving a story of redemption in my life. Amen.