Your Gentleness is Not a Liability

by Sarah E. Westfall

In sixth grade, I punched a boy, and I think it surprised me most.

The boy was fine, but for a brief moment after the blow, the world went into slow motion. We stared at each in disbelief.

I was five foot nothing, barely pushing one hundred pounds, and not prone to fighting. I liked to keep my anger locked tight.

But not that day. That day it burned all the way down to my fist. And in the aftermath, as other kids started to laugh and chant “Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee!” heat flooded my cheeks.

I don’t know why I hit him. I don’t know what pushed me past the edge of tolerance. All I know is that as I walked away, shame had lodged itself in my body, burning somewhere between my throat and my chest. I wished the whole thing had never happened, because while I did not regret standing up for myself, I knew there was a better way to fight. I knew the moment my fist hit his stomach, it wasn’t me.

But knowing how to fight well is tricky business in a world where quiet strength often goes unnoticed. Bold opinions get ovations while peaceful silence gets pushed into the shadows. The fruit of the Spirit seems to get chewed up and spit out.

I often feel too soft in a world that demands iron in your veins.

Sarah E. Westfall

But I keep reminding myself:

Your gentleness is not a liability.

Oh, no. Your gentleness may just be your greatest weapon.

Because like Jesus himself, who often chose silence in the face of accusation, true strength does not demand that we clench our fists but rather, that we learn how to stand firm while remaining tender.

With that comes tension, nuance, and a fog of gray—and that can be difficult to navigate. I get it. Truly.

But if you are going to fight for anything, fight for your softness. Fight for a way of being in the world that doesn’t push people to their corners. Fight to remain open to people and to find acceptable outlets for your anger that don’t create human casualties along the way.

Because your gentleness is not a liability, but an invitation.

Your softness is something worth fighting for.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah E. Westfall 

is a writer, podcast host, and director of community for hope*writers. Her work explores faith, belonging, and how we can be a little more human together. Sarah lives for slow Saturday mornings at home, sipping pour-over coffee with her husband Ben as their four sons play (very loudly).

We love to collaborate with creatives. Connect with us to have your work featured on The Holy Shift.

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