Crying Out | Sounds That Reach God's Ears
Recently, I saw in a scene in a movie where two men are having a conversation and one of them is in tears. Someone unexpectedly walks into the room and the man in tears looks the other way covering his face so he can’t be seen crying. Why do you think we cover our tears or bottle them up in the first place?
Crying out takes on a lot of meanings in the Old and New Testaments. It can be a yelling or screaming in distress, a bitter lamentation, a shout for help among others. But throughout the Scriptures, as nations and individuals call out, one thing is certain: God hears and responds.
Israel cries out in their affliction against the injustice of Egyptian oppression (Ex. 3:7)
Hannah cries out in her infertility for a son (1 Sam. 1:10)
King Jehoshaphat cries out God for victory over a military enemy (2 Chronicles 18:31)
The prophet Elijah cries out to see a dead child revived (1 Kings 17:20-22)
A blind man calls out above the crowds to ask Jesus to restore his sight (Mark 10:46)
God rescues Israel out of her slavery, grants the desires of Hannah’s heart, provides victory for Jehoshaphat, brings the child back to life, and gives sight to Bartimaeus. Now this doesn’t mean that God will answer the cries the way we might think he should or in the timing we might like. Israel experienced slavery for 400 years. But the saying is trustworthy: God hears and responds to crying out.
Why? Because nothing is rooted in faith quite like letting our tears fall in the presence of God. They say to God, “I am helpless and hurt. I am desperate and drained. I have nowhere to go but you. This is overwhelming and hard, and I need you.” Our hearts are no longer in hiding but honest. We are in a posture of surrender, and God promises to draw near in our broken-heartedness (Psalm 34:18) and give grace to the humble (1 Peter 5:5-6).
My dad would always ask when I went through something difficult why it took me so long to come to him. Looking back, I can answer that it was likely self-sufficiency and pride. My dad was willing and able to help, but he couldn’t until I let him in on what was going on. So let your hearts be open to God, and let your tears fall. They are nothing to be embarrassed over. They point to the truth of ourselves—our frailty, our limitations, and our weaknesses. But it’s in this place wants to show you the truth of himself—as Comforter, Provider, and Protector.
If you’re looking for a Boston church to call home and a community to grow with in your relationship with God, we’d love to see you visit King’s Hill.