“Pour out your hearts before Him, for God is our refuge.” (Psalm 62:8)

One of the biggest misconceptions some Christians have is that strong emotions somehow indicate weakness and easily translating it to “weak faith”. If we’re crying, we assume we must not be trusting God. If we’re angry, we think we’ve failed spiritually. If we’re afraid, we believe we should hide it from God until we’ve “gotten ourselves together.” But is that really what Scripture teaches? The more I read the Bible, the more I realise that God never asked His children to pretend. He asks us to be honest.

Sometimes we act as though God doesn’t know what’s happening inside us. We carefully choose our words in prayer, avoiding the emotions we’d rather not admit. But why? God knows every anxious thought before we speak it. He sees every tear before it falls. David wrote:

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in Your book.” (Psalm 56:8)

That verse amazes me. God doesn’t merely tolerate our tears. He treasures them. Not one tear is unnoticed. Not one moment of heartbreak escapes His attention.

My Journey with Tears

I grew up in a church that, in many parts of my country, is nicknamed “Chema” which simply means “the church that cries.” Our altar times were known for loud crying, wailing, and passionate prayer. So, naturally, I grew up completely comfortable with emotions in prayer.

To make matters even more interesting, I was already an emotional child. Crying was almost second nature to me. It was how I expressed disappointment, hurt, pain, passion, anger and, according to my mum, even my rage. I didn’t just cry, I cried loudly.

As I got older, however, people began interpreting my tears as manipulation. That hurt deeply because I knew my heart. I wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone. I was simply expressing what I genuinely felt.

Without realizing it, I also began attaching my spirituality to my emotions. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I started believing that if I hadn’t cried, maybe I hadn’t really prayed. When I later struggled with doubts about whether I had truly been born again, one of the questions that haunted me was surprisingly simple:

“Maybe I didn’t cry enough when I prayed the prayer of repentance.”

Looking back now, I realize how subtly I had allowed my emotions to become the measure of my faith.

Jesus Wasn’t Emotionless

Sometimes we imagine that maturity means becoming emotionally detached. Yet Jesus, the perfect Son of God, was deeply emotional. When He stood at Lazarus’ tomb…

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)

He wasn’t weak neither was He overcome by unbelief. He was full of compassion.

In the Garden of Gethsemane:

“He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed… ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.'” (Matthew 26:37-38)

“He prayed more fervently, and he was in such agony of spirit that his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood.” (Luke 22:44)

“During the days of Jesus’ earthly life, He offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the One who could save Him from death, and He was heard because of His reverent submission.” (Hebrews 5:7)

We can see, He prayed with deep emotion. His soul was overwhelmed with sorrow, He prayed in great anguish. His tears were not a sign of weak faith but of complete honesty before the Father while remaining fully surrendered to His will.

If the sinless Son of God could weep, then tears themselves cannot be sinful. The issue has never been whether we feel deeply. The issue is what we do with those feelings.

Tears Can Become Prayer

One of the most comforting passages in Scripture is:

“The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” (Romans 8:26.)

Have you ever reached a place where you couldn’t even find the words? Where all you could do was cry? God understands those moments. Sometimes tears become a language.

I’ve also noticed something beautiful in my own prayer life. I still cry, probably more than most people realize. But today, I know that many of those tears are not simply emotional reactions.

They are prompted by the Holy Spirit. Sometimes He allows me to feel His grief for people. Sometimes He overwhelms me with His love. Sometimes I become so aware of His goodness that words completely fail me.

At other times, when I come to Him carrying my own pain, He comforts me so deeply that the tears I expected never even come. I’ve also noticed that many of my tears during prayer are no longer connected to my own needs. Instead, they often flow as I intercede for others or simply worship Him.

That has taught me something precious. Whether tears come or not isn’t what matters.

God hears me just as clearly on the quiet days as He does on the tearful ones. Not because tears themselves have power, but because the Holy Spirit meets us in our weakness. I’ve come to believe that some of the deepest moments of prayer happen when words fail. God isn’t waiting for eloquence. He’s looking for surrendered hearts.

But Emotions Should Never Lead Us

While God welcomes our emotions, He never asks us to be led by them, neither does He say that those that don’t cry have not really prayed. There is a difference between emotional honesty and emotionalism.

As the Lord continued to grow me, He began teaching me something I desperately needed to learn. He wasn’t asking me to suppress my emotions. He was asking me to surrender them. There is a world of difference.

I brought my emotional life before Him and simply said, “Lord, these belong to You.” Over time, He began sanctifying them.

Today, something remarkable has happened. In situations where people expect me to be the one crying, I sometimes don’t cry at all. Instead, God strengthens me. He has often made me the pillar of strength for others when everything around us is falling apart. Ironically, I now sometimes hear the opposite criticism:

“You’re so emotionless. How can you not cry through this?”

Years ago, I was “too emotional.” Now, to some people, I seem “not emotional enough.” Neither opinion defines me anymore. What matters is that my emotions no longer belong to me. They belong to God. He decides when tears are appropriate and when strength is needed.

Emotionalism chases an experience. Spirit-led prayer pursues God. Jesus said:

“The true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth.” (John 4:23–24)

Notice those two words:

  • Spirit.
  • Truth.

Not feelings or dry facts without affection.  God created our emotions, but they must remain submitted to His truth. Our emotions make wonderful servants but they make terrible masters. The fruit of the Spirit includes self-control (Galatians 5:22–23), reminding us that the Holy Spirit governs every part of our lives, including our emotions. Paul also wrote:

“I will pray with the spirit, and I will also pray with the understanding.” (1 Corinthians 14:15)

True prayer engages The Spirit and both the heart and the mind.

Faith Is Not a Feeling

This has become one of the most freeing lessons I’ve learned. Faith isn’t measured by how emotional I feel during prayer. Some days I feel overwhelmed by God’s presence. Other days I don’t feel much at all. Neither day changes who God is. Paul reminds us:

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)

Faith doesn’t stand on emotions, it stands on God’s Word.

“Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.” (Romans 10:17)

Habakkuk paints one of the clearest pictures of mature faith:

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines… yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Habakkuk 3:17–18)

Nothing around him had changed and his feelings probably hadn’t either. Yet he chose faith and that’s what mature prayer looks like. Not denying reality or pretending everything is okay but choosing to trust God anyway.

So Should We Cry?

Absolutely!

Cry if your heart is broken and rejoice if your heart is overflowing. Pour out your fears and express your gratitude. Bring your disappointment and also celebrate your victories.
Bring all of it, but don’t stop at your emotions.

Let them lead you to God, not replace Him. Our goal isn’t simply to feel something in prayer. Our goal is to know Someone. Sometimes that encounter fills us with joy and sometimes it leaves us in tears. Sometimes it comes in complete silence.

But whether tears flow or not, God is still present. And His presence, not our feelings, is the foundation of our faith. God never asks us to suppress our emotions, nor does He ask us to be controlled by them.

He invites us to bring every emotion into His presence and allow His Spirit to transform them. Tears are not a sign of weak faith. Sometimes they are evidence of a heart being softened by the Father.

The mature believer is not the one who never cries nor is the mature believer the one who cries the most. Maturity is measured by surrender and sometimes surrender is expressed through tears. Sometimes it is expressed through quiet confidence, sometimes through worship, and sometimes through silent endurance.

Whatever form it takes, surrendered emotions always lead us closer to Christ instead of drawing attention to ourselves. The mature believer is the one who keeps trusting, whether tears are falling or not.

Looking back on my own journey, I realise God never asked me to become less emotional. Neither did He want my emotions to define me. He wanted my emotions to belong to Him. Over the years, I have watched Him take my tears, my joys, my disappointments, my passion, even the emotions that once caused me confusion, and sanctify them for His service.

Today, whether He strengthens me to stand without tears or moves me to weep in His presence, I know they are no longer simply my emotions. They are surrendered to Him. That is what growth looks like.

Not suppressing emotions or idolizing them but surrendering them until they become instruments in the hands of God.

Whether we pray through tears, through silence, through rejoicing, or through quiet faith, our confidence is never found in how we feel but in the One to whom we pray.

May we become people whose emotions are no longer ruled by circumstances but are surrendered to the Holy Spirit, allowing Him to use every part of us for His glory.

Prayer

Father,
Thank You for creating me with emotions and for meeting me in every season, whether I come with joy, grief, peace, or tears.
Help me to never hide my heart from You. Teach me to surrender every emotion to the leading of Your Spirit.
Sanctify my emotions for Your service.
Let my tears, my joy, my silence, and my strength all become instruments in Your hands.
When words fail, remind me that Your Spirit intercedes for me.
When I feel overwhelmed, anchor me in Your truth.
And when I feel nothing at all, help me to continue walking by faith, knowing that You are always faithful.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen. ❤️

Last modified: 22/06/2026
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