Last week, we sat with grief.
This week, we let it soften us.
Not into weakness—but into wisdom.
Softness is not the opposite of strength.
It’s what makes strength sustainable.
It’s what allows resilience to take root in something real.
In my ministry, I’ve learned this most viscerally while singing at memorial services.
There’s a strange kind of tension required—
The professionalism to carry the rhythm, the timing, the cues.
And the presence to carry the emotion.
Between each song, I reset.
I soften—deliberately.
Not to collapse, and not to disconnect.
But to stay open to what the room is feeling.
The laughter from a story.
The ache of a goodbye.
The silence that says more than words.
If I stay too hard, I become robotic.
If I get swept away, I lose the thread.
Softness is the middle path.
It’s what lets me hold the emotion without losing myself to it.
And this shows up outside of ministry too.
Imagine walking into a boardroom.
The room expects certainty. Command. Answers.
You feel the pressure to be sharp, in control.
But then—something in you softens.
You take a breath and say:
"I have thoughts. But I also have questions. I'm not above you. I'm with you. And together, we're going to figure this out."
You didn’t shrink.
You didn’t defer.
You led—through softness.
And the room doesn’t tense.
It leans in.
Because softness doesn’t weaken your authority.
It deepens your trust.
Practice This Week:
– Name one moment where softness changed a conversation, a relationship, or your own direction.
– Ask yourself: What would it look like to lead with softness today—without apologizing for it?
– Reflect: What opens up when I stop bracing? What aligns when I stop forcing?
Softness is not passivity.
It’s presence.
It’s permission.
It’s power, redefined.
Live the value. Let it echo.
With tenderness and trust,
—Sheila
If this reflection stirred something in you, consider forwarding it to a colleague, friend, or fellow leader who might need this reminder today.
Softness is contagious—and the world could use more of it.