When I was young, my family gave me two nicknames.

One was “Sora” (meaning conch shell), and the other was “Crybaby.” My father gave me the name Sora because I was so quiet and gentle that even if I stayed in the same room all day, people hardly noticed I was there. The nickname Crybaby came, I suppose, from the fact that I wasn’t very good at expressing myself with words, so I often replaced what should have been spoken with tears.

Carrying these two nicknames like a burden, I tried hard to hide the inferiority complex buried deep in my consciousness. I tried to speak as well as others did, and I tried to hold back tears that always came before words. But eventually, I realized that these two things were not lifelong problems to be solved—they were gifts of grace.

Because I was slow to express myself verbally, conversations often drifted in directions I never intended, or misunderstandings arose. When I discovered this, I began writing. Through writing, I found a way to express myself more clearly. Even expressions of gratitude, when sent through a small card or letter decorated with flowers, linger far longer in the heart than spoken thanks. I, too, often place such cards on my refrigerator door and savor the beautiful heart of the sender for a long time—like admiring a freshly bloomed flower.

I also learned one day, through a pastor’s sermon, that being called a Crybaby is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, those who cry easily before God recover from stress more quickly and are less likely to suffer from ulcers or other ailments. Whenever my heart is heavy or wounded, I wrestle before God in tears, and afterward my spirit opens wide and I feel heaven’s comfort resting within me.

Everyone cries at times. We cry at sad movies or dramas. Sometimes we cry out of resentment or anger. Even cutting onions or being exposed to tear gas can make us cry. But the amazing thing is that these types of tears are biochemically different from the tears shed when a wandering soul clings to God in desperation. Tears shed before God contain high levels of protein and help wash away the waste of both body and soul, naturally preserving spiritual and physical health.

A single tear holds the mystery of heaven. Kneeling at the altar, I have experienced countless times the mysterious answers of God that come through tearful prayers and deep lament. Each time, joy and gratitude wash over my life like a blessing. A mother’s tearful prayers for her children, or prayers offered in tears for a neighbor, never lead to spiritual drought.

God wastes nothing—not a single thing He gives us is unnecessary. Even the nicknames given to us can become blessings in God’s hands, and for that, I am grateful.

— Yoon Wan Hee, 10/16/1997