There are days when you move through life on autopilot, working, serving, praying, staying strong, until one conversation cracks the shell you didn’t realize you were holding together.
I was out with a friend after a Holiday Sips class, the kind of easy outing you don’t overthink. We drifted into a conversation about life and whatever was weighing on us, standing by my car as the night thinned around us. When it started to drizzle, I told him to hop in.
It became one of those nights, the unplanned kind that sneaks up on you. I hadn’t expected anything more than a quick goodbye. But somewhere between the long workday, the weight of responsibility, the lingering taste of wine, and the stillness of that parking lot, something in me loosened. I finally exhaled.
And for the first time in a while… someone actually listened. Not to fix me. Not to judge me. Not to give spiritual clichés. Just listened. Sometimes, that’s all the soul needs to remember it’s still alive.
The Weight I Didn’t Want to Admit
There’s a verse in Psalm 34:18 that says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I’ve read it a hundred times, but today I felt it. Because I’ve been carrying so much, more than I want to admit out loud.
Financial stress. Shutdown worries. Loneliness. Tiredness that sits in the bones. The pressure to stay strong. The heaviness of wanting a partner but not wanting to settle.
And then the shame of needing help.
The embarrassment of breaking down.
The habit of saying “I’m good” when I’m not.
A writer I love once said, “Sometimes the soul leaks through the cracks we try so hard to seal.” That’s exactly what happened. That night, all the cracks showed , and instead of running from them, I finally let someone see the truth behind them.
The Night I Let Myself Speak
Maybe it was the long day updating time cards. Maybe it was the emotional hangover from Wednesday’s reflections. Maybe it was the way the evening stretched into quiet, offering a rare, safe moment. But as we sat outside in the cool air, talking after the wine tasting, the words simply spilled:
My fears.
My exhaustion.
My desire for partnership.
My grief for my mom.
My spiritual fatigue.
The weariness that settles in when it’s just me again.
Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you fulfill the law of Christ.” I’ve carried so many burdens alone for so long that I forgot it can feel holy to let someone shoulder even a piece of the weight.
He didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t rush me.
Didn’t offer shallow comfort.
He just listened. And sometimes, that’s the greatest gift a person can give. As Henri Nouwen once wrote, “Listening is the highest form of hospitality.”
That night, I felt that hospitality in my bones.
Soul Insights
1. Being vulnerable is not weakness, it’s strength.
Every time I open my heart, I give God room to move. Vulnerability makes space for healing that strength alone can’t reach. When I pretend I’m fine, I block the very connection my soul is crying out for. Tonight reminded me that openness is not fragility; it’s courage wrapped in honesty. And God meets us in the places we whisper, not just the places we shout.
2. Loneliness doesn’t always look like sadness. Sometimes it looks like competence.
I do so much. I handle so much. On paper, I look capable, steady, responsible. But competence can camouflage need. It can create a world where no one thinks to ask if you’re tired because you carry everything so well. Tonight showed me how much I’ve internalized — and how deeply I long for someone to say, “You don’t have to carry all of that alone.”
3. Safe presence heals what pep talks can’t.
People underestimate the power of simply being there. They rush to fix, explain, encourage. But presence, quiet, patient presence, heals in a different register. It reaches the wounds that words can’t touch. Tonight reminded me how healing it is when someone doesn’t try to solve you, but simply sees you.
4. God uses conversations to reveal what we’ve been avoiding.
I didn’t know how overwhelmed I was. I didn’t know how much I needed to talk. I didn’t realize how much I missed real companionship, not romance, not fantasy, but spiritual partnership and emotional support. God often brings clarity through ordinary moments. A parking lot talk. A late drive. A shared meal. Suddenly the truth rises, unmistakable and loud.
5. Even strong people need someone to lean on.
Strength has become part of my identity, but even strength needs rest. Even leaders need support. Even givers need to receive. Ecclesiastes 4:10 says, “If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” I’ve been the one helping others up for years. Tonight reminded me that I, too, deserve someone who can lift me when I’m tired.
Final Thoughts
Tonight wasn’t dramatic. There were no fireworks. No big declarations. Just two people talking in the quiet. But God was there. In the honesty. In the unfiltered sharing. In the emotional release I didn’t expect.
Sometimes healing happens, not in the grand moments, but in the ones where someone looks at you and says, “I’m here. I hear you.”
And maybe, just maybe, that was God’s way of saying it too.
Your Turn
Who in your life truly listens?
Who makes space for your soul to breathe?
Reach out to them.
Schedule a conversation.
Let yourself be known.
You don’t have to carry everything alone.
You were never meant to.
© 2025 Amelie Chambord
Soul Path Insights 
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