Your Softness Is Not Shame

It’s hard to love someone deeply, when the way they love you is strong, but not gentle, not melodic, not full.

It’s hard to want them to be the soft place—the shoulder you can lay your head upon–not someone else. Not someone on the fringes of yourself.

It’s hard to be in a place where the best you can do is maintain the peace. Where if you let your voice be heard, you’ll get shut down—not to mention you’ll feel like you’re doing the wrong thing. You’ll stir up more pain for yourself, and the conflict won’t advance to resolution.

Many encourage you to retaliate against the sensitive part of yourself that is so susceptible to injury. To develop thicker skin. To set up barbed wire fences to protect your space, your voice, your platform for expression. To grumble and complain.

Others tell you to submit, to trust God, to wait upon him, to suffer diligently, to die to self—and those words mean something more loveless, more disjointed than they did when we lived them together.

There is a place that is neither martyrdom nor jadedness. There is a place where your voice flies free and your spirit stays sweet–but also true, honest, real. There are confessional anger, tears that fill the thirsty, unembittered longing, and all of them free from guilt.


Your softness is your strength. Your feelings are your beauty. Your hope—however tremulous—is worth shielding, stoking, and allowing to burn.

Too many worship their wounds—you let them flow.
Too many gather their strength—you gather your meekness.
Too many clamber over one another for security, validation, and triumph—
Though you don’t always feel it, you live now in triumph, because you have not been changed.

Let your resolve deepen, your softness settle, and your faith manifest in agency.

One day, the blood of your kind will heal the nations.

One day, your heart will flow steadfast.


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