Admitting You Are Emotionally Sensitive

Can I admit how sensitive I am emotionally? If I wear a covering for my head it's actually a covering for my heart. Sometimes I don't want to be seen full on. I wear a hat and some shades for more than just some protection from the sun. I want some protection for my soul.

Perhaps you don't like the word sensitive. Perhaps it sounds too flimsy or fragile. It might sound like the breaking of eggs or the ripping of paper. It could make you think I'm delicate, unbending or brittle. In reality what is sensitivity, but feeling, perceiving, and seeing, even if it carries with it the risk of being easily bruised in the soul?

I could never be a painter. I miss too much physical detail when looking at the world all around me. I do not see what the artist sees. But because I sensitive, I am an artist of a different kind. I feel it all; I write it down in words.

I see how the tender heart breaks while others simply walk on by, and how, to onlookers, their heartbreak appears so small, when to me it is ten stories high. I can see it when you're hurting and I want to take your hand and to tell you that you're not alone. It's like I can hear the tender pulsing of music from the beating wings of a bee.

I am not broken.

I was designed with a purpose: to be sensitive and to understand what it is to hurt. I feel it is my ministry. It is not my weakness. It is my strength.

Can you let it be your strength too if you relative to what I've been saying?

Being sensitive means I sometimes cry. It's not unusual for me dab the corner of my red-streaked eyes more often than most. But that's not all. I see the triumph in tragedy and the tragedy in triumph. I see many of the the shades in between as well.

It means that what I feel, I feel deeply. I sometimes want to hide my paper-thin sensibilities from the world because at times it feels like it is all too much. I compare the world to scripture and I find it to be sorely lacking. Like Jeremiah I sometimes weep over what we choose to do.

I do not believe that sensitivity is a trait we value very highly in today's society. As a result, I often fear being harshly judged for being so sensitive. I fear letting tears fall down when in public and I bite my lip to keep from crying. I don't want to be perceived as highly sensitive. But that is who I am.

Perhaps we could not go on hurting and belittling one another as we do if we all were a little more sensitive. Perhaps we would not mow down the feelings of one another if we took some time to consider how it might feel on the other side. And I think that perhaps it is the job of the ones who are sensitive to stop the others in their tracks and to make them slow down and to really listen.

Sometimes it is in God's design that that the poets would speak to the warriors and engage them in conversation. To say, I may not possess your strength, but could I lend you some of my heart? To see what I see and to hear what I hear. To hand him or her a flower out of the recognition we are all human and to offer that perhaps there is another way.

Perhaps we can cause the others to sometimes take a breath, pause and listen. Perhaps that was what the Father was after when He made a sensitive soul like me. Perhaps it's what He had in mind when He made you too.

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