
This morning at church, someone mistook me for a college student. I laughed, flattered, and then glanced at the friend standing beside me who probably knew better. I’ve been told I carry a youthful vibe, but the truth is, my heart often feels older than my face. It’s a heart that has weathered seasons of longing, loss, joy, and recovery. And lately, it’s a heart that keeps whispering, “Guard me.”
But here’s the question: how do you guard your heart without building walls so thick that nothing life-giving can enter?
The Bible doesn’t mince words on this: “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (Proverbs 4:23). Guarding the heart is not optional—it’s foundational. But guarding doesn’t mean locking it in a vault. Guarding means cultivating discernment. It’s the art of keeping your heart soft enough to love and strong enough not to shatter at every whim.
I’ve been reminded of this balance recently through the smallest of things—inside jokes, playful banter, compliments from strangers, even hospitality shared at a friend’s house. These moments plant seeds. Some grow into flowers of joy. Others into vines of overthinking. Guarding my heart means learning how to tell the difference.
🌿 Guarding vs. Closing
When I think about “closing off the heart,” I picture a fortress. High walls, no entry, moat included. Nothing gets in—nothing gets out. It may feel safe, but it’s not living.
Guarding, on the other hand, is more like tending a garden. You keep out the weeds, but you also leave room for growth. You set boundaries, but you also allow beauty. The poet Rumi once said, “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Guarding your heart doesn’t mean preventing wounds; it means letting even the wounds be redeemed into light.
The challenge, of course, is that hearts are unpredictable. They leap at jokes (“I saw one in the mirror this morning”), flutter at smiles, and dream at compliments. My heart is quick to assign meaning. Maybe yours is too. And this is why guarding is essential—not to stop the heart from feeling, but to stop it from attaching where it shouldn’t.
As Brené Brown puts it: “Vulnerability is not about winning or losing; it’s about having the courage to show up when you can’t control the outcome.” Guarding the heart doesn’t mean refusing vulnerability; it means showing up wisely.
🌊 Everyday Lessons in Guarding
This weekend reminded me that lessons in guarding don’t always come in dramatic ways. At church, I was reminded that appearances can deceive—we’re seen one way, but God knows the depth of us. At lunch, I was reminded that hospitality feeds more than bodies; it feeds belonging. And in playful banter, I was reminded that seeds are always being planted, and some need to be held lightly.
Guarding the heart isn’t about suspicion. It’s about stewardship. Jesus himself warned His disciples in Matthew 26:41: “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Watching is a form of guarding. Praying is the way we let God co-guard with us.
🌟 Soul Insights
1. Guarding doesn’t mean hardening.
A guarded heart can still be tender. To close off your heart entirely is to deny yourself the very connections that make life rich. Guarding is about letting God help filter what enters. Ezekiel 36:26 says, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” Hardening is a temptation; guarding is the balance that keeps us soft yet secure.
2. Playfulness has its place.
Flirtation, banter, inside jokes—they’re part of being human. They make life enjoyable. But they don’t always mean what we think they mean. Guarding the heart means you can enjoy playfulness without pressuring it into permanence. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: ‘What! You too?’” Not every “what you too” moment needs to grow into more. Sometimes it’s enough that it makes you laugh.
3. Hospitality awakens longing.
Sitting in a friend’s home today, I realized how much I long for a space of my own to host, to welcome, to gather. Guarding my heart here means not slipping into envy or impatience, but treating longing as prayer. Desire can be holy when it’s offered to God. In fact, longing for a home that welcomes echoes God’s own heart: “My Father’s house has many rooms” (John 14:2). Guarding means remembering my timeline isn’t the only one at work.
4. Compliments reflect frequency, not just appearance.
Being mistaken for someone younger was flattering, but it reminded me: youthfulness isn’t just skin deep. It’s an energy, a presence, a frequency you carry. Guarding the heart means receiving compliments with gratitude, not letting them inflate pride or become an identity. As Maya Angelou said, “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Youthfulness of spirit is remembered far longer than youthful skin.
5. Guarding requires prayerful surrender.
No matter how self-aware I try to be, my heart is still prone to leap ahead. Guarding it means giving it back to God every day. Guarding without God is just suspicion. Guarding with God is surrender. The real work is in letting Him define the boundaries, so that I can keep living fully while staying anchored. As Philippians 4:7 promises: “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
🌙 Final Thoughts
Guarding the heart without closing it is delicate work. It’s living in that space where you can laugh at a joke, enjoy companionship, cherish compliments, and still say, “God, my heart is Yours first.”
This weekend, I learned again that hearts are gardens, not vaults. They need both boundaries and sunlight. They need both pruning and planting. They need protection, but never suffocation.
So I’ll keep laughing at inside jokes, keep longing for hospitality, keep saying yes to friendship, and keep praying: Lord, guard my heart, but never let it close.
🌱 Call to Action
What about you? 🌿
How do you tend the garden of your heart? Do you find yourself overprotecting, or leaving it too open at times?
Share your reflections in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re learning to guard your heart without shutting it down.
And if this post spoke to you, send it to someone who might need the reminder that guarding the heart is about wisdom, not walls.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord

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