“Our heart can never overindulge, for our capacity to love grows as we do it. The heart is a muscle that wants to lift heavy things, so, love-and keep loving.” ~B. Oakman
A television commercial can cause my eyes to well with wetness.
A stranger’s story of random blessing will bring a sting of tears to my eyes.
A beloved book, oft read and remembered, tugs at my emotions every time I take it down from the shelf.
My motherly instincts cry tears of joy with every milestone reached by my children.
Streams of tears flow fiercely for friends facing trials and tragedies and celebrations of joy.
Words, both written and oral, have the power to melt my heart and turn me into a sniveling fool.
Memories move me in a multitude of ways: choking, inspiring, motivating, heart-warming, heart-breaking.
My heart is tender to the cry of a kindred spirit, easily broken for others, by others, by my own doubts and mental self-flagellation.
And yet, my heart is strong and resilient. It beats fiercely with passion and with compassion. It is vulnerable yet indestructible. My character flows forth from every heartbeat. My tears are not a sign of weakness, rather an outpouring of inner strength.