For This House
Every Season. Every Space. All for Him.
Every Season. Every Space. All for Him.
January 20, 2024 | 5 min read
Ally Veldhuisen
In the last few years I’ve been made aware that my ability to look on the sunny side of life can be too much for people.
Examples:
At first, I shrugged these observations aside, thinking my positive thinking was such a wonderful gift that I didn’t need to keep it in check. Over time, however, I realized that it was overtaking everything.
My constant positivity, though well-intentioned, can minimize others’ experiences and invalidate their feelings. Though I aim to uplift others, my sunny insistence that “everything will be okay” doesn’t allow space for real grief, anger or anxiety.
In my recognition of this strength turned weakness, I began to realize that this impulse to be constantly positive comes from a misplaced understanding of positivity as godliness. I associate optimism with righteousness, as if seeing the bright side is the “Christian” response.
But Jesus himself made space for pain. He wept at Lazarus’ tomb, agonized in the Gethsemane garden before his crucifixion, and cried out “my God, why have you forsaken me?” on the cross. David cried out of his anguish and rage in the Psalms. Even Job, called righteous, poured out his grief and questioned God’s justice.
These examples remind me that difficulty and darkness are inevitable, even for the faithful. Racing to gloss over hardship is not actually faithful. True Christian support means meeting suffering with empathy, not platitudes. It means doing the hard work of resting in discomfort, rather than using positivity to muscle through it.
This tendency reveals a deeper issue—that in my desire to be righteous, I have sometimes replaced true faith in God with “acts” of positivity and self-reliance. But God calls us to rely on him, not just believe we can will things to be alright through sheer optimistic thinking. Real faith acknowledges hardship and trusts God’s presence within it.
This realization has led me to work on balancing optimism with emotional attunement. I’m learning to ask questions, listen carefully, and hold space for people to express themselves fully, even if it means sitting with painful emotions. I’m realizing that true support means meeting people where they are, not rushing to make them feel better.
My husband’s gentle nudges have encouraged me to reflect more before reacting. My friend’s confession has taught me that glossing over problems can unintentionally enable harmful behavior. And my mentee’s feedback has shown me that always rushing past hardship can isolate others.
I still see the good in every situation,but I’m striving for self-awareness: to temper my brightness, let people feel heard, and allow space for light and shadow to coexist. This insight has helped me to better empathize with loved ones and myself. I’m growing to understand that positivity and pain can coincide, and that listening with an open heart is sometimes the most powerful act of optimism.
While writing this, I was tempted to speak about this struggle in past tense, but it’s ongoing, and maybe it is for you, too. One of the best ways to reorient ourselves is through prayer. So, here is a prayer to get you started:
Lord, You are light. In your mercy, you have blessed me with gifts like optimism and positivity. But God, I confess that I often prioritize appearing righteous over building my relationship with you. I find myself equating positivity with godliness, finding silver linings instead of making space for pain. Forgive me for stifling others’ experiences and failing to ask you into difficult spaces. Thank you for your grace which abounds even when I stumble and interfere.
Holy Spirit, when I rush to put a positive spin on hardship, may your felt presence nudge me to listen, mourn, and empathize. Remind me that real faith acknowledges suffering and leans into your comfort. Grow my ability to sit with discomfort, trusting that you meet me there. Teach me to notice blessings without ignoring those who hurt. Shape my heart to use all gifts for your glory alone. I praise you for being light in the darkness. May I reflect your light by walking in step with you.
Amen.