dear sensitive heart,
I’m with you.
Really, truly, from the depths of my soul, I do.
I’ve grown slow into this skin, afraid to stretch it out, to test the boundaries of the sensitivity of my soul which others, even those close to me, labeled as fragile… breakable… weak… I always loathed that word: fragile. Hated it. Avoided it like a disease and cringed when it slapped against my ears. Probably because it was most often used to brush me off, belittle my pain, excuse a careless remark.
I’ve fought the seemingly endless fight to be taken seriously, to have my words carry in the ears of their hearers the weight my heart often does. I’ve carried the frustration of being repeatedly snubbed, patted on the shoulder, smiled at condescendingly.
“My thoughts matter!” I’ve wanted to scream, “My words are important!” But exasperated attempts at interjection don’t end well for the sensitive heart.
Our world of feminists and bulldozers and doers and type-A’s claim we’re not worth all that much. “What are you worth if you don’t take charge and plow through anything standing in your way? Don’t you have drive?”
Even our churches have hopped on the bandwagon and confined us to nursery duty. Sometimes they like to pull us out at a particularly emotionally-hyped event or when they want a tearful testimony (because, naturally, our tears are the first to fall), but when it comes time for votes and major decisions we are, once again, scooted to the bleachers and encouraged to cheer on the stronger, wiser people.
But, oh sensitive heart… You are a goldmine of quiet strength, a pillar of steadfast compassion, a fountain of thankfulness and praise. You, sweet soul, find it so much more natural to commune with the Spirit, easier to hear His voice, compelled more dramatically by His heart. When He calls, so often you hear. When the broken flood in the doors, your arms are open. When you think of the miracle that is your redemption, you are often overcome.
Your heart carries burdens for others, as well as your own. It listens and feels so deeply the Father’s longing for the lost. You have the ability to feel that ache so deeply, sensitive heart. You know the reality of His acceptance of a broken and contrite spirit.
Your gentleness is a gift, dear one. No matter what other lies you’ve been told, this is the truth. Embrace your sensitivity in humility.
Oh sensitive heart… You’re the strongest kind.