Jesus wept as He approached Jerusalem, says Luke 19:41. I'm not a big crier, but there are a few things that get my waterworks going pretty regularly. Here is a list of some of them I have noted---
As a child watching television, when Lassie came home, bounding over the hill, and Richard Kimble was acquitted and finally stopped running.
Later, the last two minutes of any episode of "Little House On The Prairie," even if I had just walked in and didn't know a thing about the story.
Hearing portions of memorable speeches by Churchill, the Kennedy brothers, and Ronald Reagan. FDR's prayer on D-Day, too.
Very often when I see someone being baptized. In a baptistery, a swimming pool, river, or beach. In Tanzania years ago I was privileged to baptize new believers in shallow mud holes under a brutal sun. They cried, and I did, too.
I tear up every time I see a commercial for St. Jude’s Children's Hospital. We give to them annually at the end of the year, but Audrey has to hide the checkbook whenever I watch an appeal.
The first wedding I cried at was that day in Danville when I realized that the bride's parents were my age and that I related more to them than to the young people standing in front of me. Then, a couple of months ago when I married my nephew, calling the name of his grandmother, no doubt watching the ceremony from heaven's balcony.
I completely lost it when speaking at Ray Hardee's funeral, a father figure to me in my Orlando church.
When Melanie dies in "Gone with the Wind"-- every time I see it. Also, the last two minutes of Redford and Streisand in "The Way We Were.” I love watching performance poetry that reaches deep into the soul, and whenever the golden buzzer is pushed for someone on America's Got Talent.
I cry when "Taps" is played at Arlington or Quantico, and a folded flag is presented.
Any sermon by the late Fred Craddock would do it, even when I walked in and heard just the last two minutes.
The day in a worship service in Mandeville, Jamaica, when God "touched me" and called me as a teenager to a lifetime of ministry.
God records our tears in His book and places them all in His bottle, says Psalm 56: 8. I am trying to keep something of a record of them, too, and my journals across the years help with that.
"Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected ones, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are but, more often than not, God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go next.”
-- Frederick Buechner
Now, let that thought settle in your spirit awhile.
Hey Question Mark, you are not alone in your gift of shedding your tears. Since I was a child, i was taught not to cry. Mama told me to shut up or she would give me something to cry about. I didn't cry at movies, funerals, weddings, or even when Ol Yeller died. But something happened in the early eighties at Virginia Hills Baptist Church. Pastor Davenport was preaching about Mises pleading with Pharaoh to let my people go. And God kept hardening Pharaohs heart. Somehow, God made a real presence in my life right then and there. I immediately asked God to not ever harden my heart. And God answered my prayer on the spot. Tears flowed from my eyes like a spigot. I sobbed uncontrollably. Sherry thought that I had lost it.My handkerchief was drenched. And to this day, I react the same way that you do. Sherry sometimes has to hide our checkbook. And, yes, St. Jude's has quite the tug on one's emotions. And, sometimes, your sermons do, too. But that's a good thing.