Have you ever wondered what it takes to earn a starting position on a National Championship college football team? Strength? Endurance? Speed?
How about... the ability to cry?
It may sound strange, but that's exactly what happened once under the leadership of legendary coach Lou Holtz. In his second season as head coach of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, his team suffered a humiliating defeat against Texas A&M in the Cotton Bowl. Holtz recalled walking into that locker room deeply discouraged — but what bothered him even more was that most of the players seemed unfazed, almost indifferent, as if the loss didn't matter.
But there was one exception. Sitting quietly at his locker was a second-string substitute named Chris Zorich, weeping uncontrollably. His heart was broken—not just over a game, but over what that loss represented. He cared so deeply that defeat pierced his soul. Holtz decided right then and there that next season, his team would be built around players who loved the game as much as Chris did.
The next year, Zorich went from substitute to starter, from backup to captain—and helped lead Notre Dame to a National Championship. He earned that position not because he was the biggest or the fastest, but because he was the one who cared enough to cry.
There are times in life when caring deeply—perhaps even painfully—is what sets you apart.
Whether it's your ministry, your marriage, your calling, your community, or that one person you're praying will come to know Christ, some things demand more than effort—they demand emotion. It might seem easier to say, “It's not worth it,” but true transformation often begins with tears. Sometimes those tears are the key that unlocks revival, healing, and change.
Even Jesus—the Son of God—wept.
He wept at the tomb of Lazarus out of love for His friend (John 11:35). And as He approached Jerusalem near the end of His ministry, seeing the hardness of hearts, He wept again, crying out, “If you had only known what would bring you peace…” (Luke 19:41). Jesus cared enough to cry—not for Himself, but for the lost souls of the city He loved.
The Apostle Paul also carried that same burden of love. When he saw believers in Galatia turning away from truth, he wrote, “My dear children, for whom I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you…” (Galatians 4:19). Paul's ministry was shaped not only by bold preaching, but by a heart that broke for the people of God.
Scripture reminds us that such tears are never wasted:
“Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.” (Psalm 126:5)
So let me ask you—when was the last time something moved you to tears?
We often complain about our neighborhoods, about youth lost in addiction or communities in decline... but when was the last time you stood on your porch or looked out across your town and wept? When was the last time your heart broke for the things that break God's heart?
When Jesus looked out over Jerusalem from that hillside, His tears weren't for Himself—they were for a people blind to grace. Likewise, if revival is ever to come to our community—not just a shuffling of saints, but true repentance, deliverance, and renewal—it will come when the church begins to weep again.
We must weep for the lost.
Weep for the hurting.
Weep for the hopeless.
Never underestimate the power of tears or the heart from which they flow.
It's only when we care enough to cry that we begin to love as Jesus loved—and it's that kind of love that transforms not just others, but us as well.