Star Words and Soft Feet: My guiding word for 2024
This Epiphany, for adult Sunday school time, I invited folks to participate in a “Star Words” reflection from Illustrated Ministry. This creative coloring activity had a variety of evocative words to look at prayerfully and to choose one to be a guide, just as the Magi had the star to lead them to God’s heart.
There were words like possibility, comfort, generosity, celebrate, persevere and wholeness. My eyes are usually drawn to words like self-control, strength, or determination on an energetic day or peace, rest, or joy if I’m feeling less optimistic.
This year, I almost chose self-control, thinking back with chagrin about eating habits, thrift store indulgences, and sharp words with my children. It certainly jumped off the page at me but it made my stomach tense, usually a sign in my body that my shame is leading not my Spirit-led self. I choose to look at the star of words again and there in the lower right corner another word drew my eyes to it:
Tenderness.
To me, tenderness is a word that floats in the middle of my ambitions to be better and my wish to withdraw into safety. It’s aspirational, sure, but also a lens through which I can evaluate my interactions internally and with others.
Tenderness (noun)—the quality of being tender— being marked by, responding to, or expressing the softer emotions: showing care and gentleness: highly susceptible to impressions or emotions: easily chewed : having a soft or yielding texture : easily broken, cut, or damaged : sensitive to touch or palpation
“The word is a child of tendre, an Anglo-French adjective that denotes softness, delicacy, or love. Tendre is also a French verb with the meaning "to offer" or "to stretch or hold out… (from Merriam Webster).
In Scripture, “tenderness” is associated with God’s generosity and the character of Jesus.
Zechariah said that John would be the messenger of “the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace.”-Luke 1:78
Isaiah foretold that the Messiah would come with the strength of a newborn tree: “He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of parched ground; He has no stately form or majesty, that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.” -Isaiah 53:2
Tenderness is seen as conducive to gaining wisdom: “Let my teaching fall like rain and my words descend like dew, like showers on new grass, like abundant rain on tender plants.” -Deuteronomy 32:2
And tender communication is how God chooses to comfort God’s people:
“Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” - Isaiah 40:2
“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will respond as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.” -Hosea 2:14-15
I can tell that tenderness is a word from God for me because it holds both invitation and challenge.
This year, I feel invited to allow myself to respond to and express softer emotions. I want to treat the parts of me that are unruly, untidy, and sensitive with gentleness, extra care, and patience.
As poet Rudy Francisco says, “I'm still learning to love the parts of me that no one claps for.”
And beyond loving to approach what frustrates me inside myself and in other people with curiosity, compassion, and connection. May I stretch out mercy and hold space for what is not yet fully formed.
On the other hand, there are elements of tenderness that make me a little queasy and uneasy. I don’t want to be susceptible or yielding. Being easily chewed, broken, damaged or moved—these are what I (and I’m suspecting many others) try to avoid at all costs.
I associate tender foods with recovering from illness or babies, tender plants with extra nuisance and care, tender feet with being inside and not experiencing the world.
May I grow this year in seeing vulnerability as something valuable. May my softness and willingness to yield be winsome and welcoming, proof that God provides waters for the thirsty and a feast for those who have nothing to pay.
May I identify with Jesus who allowed himself to be bent and crushed and more like a shoot than a spear.
May I be willing to go places that could cause discomfort, using new muscles literally and figuratively to hold out the good news of a tender God.
Do you have a word you’ve chosen to guide you this year? I’d love to hear the story someday soon. What invitation, what challenge might God be giving you as we move into 2024?
