There is an ache I carry deep in my heart—the ache of knowing that my family doesn’t see eye to eye. The tension, the unspoken words, the careful tiptoeing around certain topics—it weighs on me. These are the people I love most, yet conversations that once felt effortless now feel like walking through a minefield. And if I’m honest, sometimes it’s just easier to stay silent.

But silence doesn’t heal. Avoiding hard conversations doesn’t bridge divides. And while I long for peace, I am reminded that true peace isn’t found in avoiding conflict but in the presence of Christ within it.

I can’t force understanding. I can’t change hearts. But I can choose to show up—with courage and humility.

I’ve been reflecting on something Ruth Padilla DeBorst said: “The acquaintance of pain can be so good for our formation.” This ache I feel—it’s not wasted. It is shaping me, stretching me, teaching me to love in deeper ways. If I allow it, this pain can form me into someone who listens more tenderly, who holds space for others’ struggles, and who refuses to let differences define relationships.

Raising my voice doesn’t mean arguing my point louder. It doesn’t mean proving that I’m right. It means being willing to share my heart, to speak truth in love, and to refuse to let fear keep me from standing firm in my faith. But just as important, I’m learning that humility must walk alongside courage. Jesus, who had every right to correct and condemn, chose instead to engage with gentleness and grace. He asked questions. He listened. He met people where they were.

And as much as I long for my family to come together around the table again, I am also learning to consider their pain. What wounds have shaped their beliefs? What fears are hidden beneath their words? If I can allow their struggles to soften me rather than harden me, perhaps this ache will not just form me—but will also open the door for healing.

This tension is real, but so is my hope. And if I can choose to love boldly, listen humbly, and trust Him with the outcome, then maybe—even in our differences—we can still declare and display His love.