the sound only heaven hears 

there is something sacred about the way we break.

i used to think crying was a sign of weakness—a crack in the armor, a moment where everything I tried so hard to hold together finally slips through. but lately, i’ve come to see it differently. crying is not a breakdown; it's a breakthrough.

to cry is to be human.

to cry is to feel. and to feel deeply is a privilege. it means your heart is still beating, your soul is still soft, and you're still alive to what matters. it means you're still capable of connection, compassion, and care.

and if you're ever tempted to believe that crying is something to hide or be ashamed of, remember this:

"Yahshua wept." — John 11:35

the shortest verse in the bible, but perhaps one of the deepest. the Son of YHWH (God), the embodiment of divinity and perfection, wept. he cried. not because he was weak, but because he loved. because he felt. because he carried pain, not only his own but everyone else’s too.

so who are we to hold back our tears?

one of the most powerful cries i ever released wasn’t in front of anyone. it wasn’t loud. it wasn’t dramatic. it was in prayer—when i fell apart in the presence of YHWH (God) and laid every piece of my heart at His feet. that moment didn’t feel weak. it felt holy. like heaven paused to listen.

“cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” — 1Peter 5:7

“the lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18

to cry in prayer is not just surrender—it’s worship. it’s saying, “i trust You enough to break in front of You.” and that might be one of the most intimate kinds of faith.

so cry when you need to. cry without shame. cry because your heart is open, not hardened. every tear is a language YHWH (God) understands, even when you can’t find the words.

and maybe those tears…
are the sound only heaven hears.