Scripture Focus:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son…”
— John 3:16
People often ask me how I stay so kind.
At work. In hard conversations. Even when someone’s being rude or unfair—there’s often a look of confusion behind the question:
“How are you still so nice?”
The answer isn’t simple. And it’s not softness, not really.
It’s something stronger. Something deeper. Something I now understand as bruised love.
The Heart of the Gospel is Bruised
A while back, I listened to a sermon that reshaped how I understand kindness. It was centered on John 3:16—not just the verse we memorized in Sunday School, but the actual weight behind the words.
“God so loved the world…”
Not the righteous. Not the perfect. Not just the church folks.
The world.
The messy, confused, undeserving world.
The kind of people who wouldn’t love Him back.
That “so” means everything. God didn’t just love—He so loved. That’s bruised love. Sacrificial. Painful. Unfair.
And still willing.
When Trust Breaks Before You Know Why
I remember working with someone I truly believed was a teammate. More than that—I thought we were friends. I shared ideas openly, invited her in, and genuinely wanted us both to succeed. My belief has always been: if we’re on the same team, we all rise together. What good is it if one person shines while the rest of the group gets left behind?
But something changed.
Suddenly, she started shutting me out of projects. Talking about me behind my back. And one day, in a room full of leaders, she took credit for work I had done.
That moment didn’t just bruise me professionally—it broke something relationally. I kept thinking, What happened?
I didn’t know what I had done.
I didn’t know what changed.
I just knew the trust was gone, and the relationship never truly recovered.
And Yet, I Stayed Open
I didn’t shut down. I didn’t return pettiness for pettiness.
Not because I wasn’t hurt.
But because I’ve been loved that way before—loved when I didn’t deserve it, loved when I didn’t say thank you, loved when I didn’t show up.
That’s what this sermon reminded me of: God’s love is bruised love.
It’s a love that gives knowing it may never get anything back.
A love that’s vulnerable—but still strong.
Why We Harden—And Why I Won’t
It’s tempting to build walls. But as the sermon pointed out, the same walls that block pain also block joy. You go numb to protect yourself—but you lose connection, creativity, empathy. You stop leading with your heart.
God designed our physical hearts with a ribcage—strong, but flexible—to protect something powerful and vulnerable.
Spiritually, He tells us to guard our hearts too.
Not to harden them.
But to be mindful of what we let in… and what we let out.
God’s Love Doesn’t Make Sense—And That’s the Point
The Gospel is scandalous.
God didn’t love the qualified. He loved the world.
He didn’t wait until we had it all together. He so loved us at our worst.
That’s the kind of love I try to embody.
It’s not performative. It’s not convenient.
It’s costly.
And it doesn’t always get applause.
But it’s the only kind of love that actually changes anything.
The Capacity to Love Deeply
One line from that sermon stopped me cold:
“Some people can’t give you more love because they don’t have the capacity.”
That helped me let go of some disappointment. It wasn’t always about me.
It wasn’t always personal.
Some people just don’t have the emotional space to love the way I do—and that’s okay.
But it also affirmed my own capacity:
Just because someone else couldn’t show up in love doesn’t mean I have to shrink mine down.
How I Stay Kind
It’s not because I haven’t been hurt.
It’s because I’ve been healed.
The Holy Spirit is the only reason I still lead with love.
Romans 5:5 NIV says:
“And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”
This isn’t about being a “nice person.”
It’s about being transformed.
Filled with the Spirit.
Able to love like God loves—when it’s hard, when it’s not returned, when it leaves you bruised.
Closing Reflection
So when people ask why I’m still kind, even when it’s hard, I don’t have a slick answer.
But I do have a testimony.
I’ve experienced bruised love.
I’ve offered it. I’ve carried it.
And I’ve been changed by it.
I don’t love because people earn it.
I love because I’ve been loved that way, too.
A Prayer for the Bruised-But-Open-Hearted:
Lord, help me keep a soft heart in a hard world.
Help me love like You do—deeply, generously, even when it hurts.
When I’m tempted to shut down, remind me of how many times You stayed open to me.
Heal the bruises I carry.
And let my kindness be more than survival—let it be revival.
Amen.
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