Platitudes

Philippians 2:3

“Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves.”

Platitudes do not mend shattered hearts.

They are bandages made of words too thin to hold the weight of real pain—spoken not to lift the suffering, but to soothe the speaker.

They offer comfort to the unbroken,

while leaving the wounded feeling ashamed

for not being instantly whole.

But Scripture never shames sorrow.

Even Jesus—God wrapped in flesh—felt hunger in the wilderness.

He wrestled with temptation, not with apathy but with groaning.

He wept at tombs. He bled in gardens.

He was not indifferent to agony—He entered into it. He did not hand out easy answers—He offered His presence.

He did not deal in clichés—He dealt in compassion.

There, under the olive trees,

with blood in His sweat and sorrow in His soul,

He showed us that anguish is not unholy.

Struggle is not a sign of weak faith—

it is often the soil in which real faith grows.

So let us be slow to speak and quick to stay.

Let us draw near to the broken, not with polished phrases but with pierced hearts.

Let us weep with those who weep,

and walk gently with those who are bleeding on holy ground.

Because healing rarely comes through answers —It comes through Presence.

And the One who still bears wounds

never once demanded we hide ours.

He entered pain to redeem it.

And in Him, even our deepest wounds

are not the end of the story—

but the place where resurrection begins.

His presence changes everything.