How To Be Strong & Powerful Without Being Loud

Some people walk into a room and bang fists or flip on the table. Others just become the table.

I’ve learned I’m the second kind. The one who doesn’t raise her voice… Anymore!… but still shifts the atmosphere. The one who whispers truth and watches as lies unravel and the truth liberates.

Gentleness is my superpower. And I didn’t always know that.

I used to think strength had to be loud. Assertive. Demanding. That if I wanted to be taken seriously, I had to come with a bang—make sure folks knew I wasn’t the one to play with. I was the loudest in the room. I yelled when I made my points. And at some point when I continued to wear that armor, it began to pinch. It wasn’t made for me. The Spirit kept nudging: Come back to softness. Come back to Me.

I remember one day, someone came at me with words meant to cut. Sharp. Loud. Aggressive. And instead of matching their energy, and watch as they continued to escalate, I exhaled. I stayed still. I let the Holy Spirit answer for me. And something shifted—not in them, but in me! My silence wasn’t weakness. It was warfare: The peace in me became louder than their chaos.

Jesus was gentle. Period. Full stop! Not gentle or soft in conviction—but gentle in posture. He healed with touch, not tantrums. He flipped tables, yes—but only when the temple was being turned into a marketplace. The rest of the time, He moved with sacred restraint. Patient self control. Compassion guided Him. He was the storm-stiller, not the storm-starter. And because I am made in His image, I don’t need to perform power. I carry it.

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity or cowardice or fear, but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of sound judgment and personal discipline [abilities that result in a calm, well-balanced mind and self-control].

2 Timothy 1:7

I am strong without shouting. I lead without pushing. I am powerful in my being. I change the room simply by being in it.

Gentle strength is Spirit-led. It’s grounded. It’s firm. It’s unshakable “like a tree planted by still water“. It doesn’t need to prove anything. It knows who sent it.

If you’ve ever been told to toughen up, to speak louder, to stop being so sensitive—I want to tell you something special and sacred: Don’t let the world steal your softness. Your gentleness is your glory. Your calm is your covering.

God,
For every tender soul who thought they had to be loud to be strong—teach them that You lead lambs and fight for lions. That gentleness is not weakness; it’s wisdom clothed in stillness. Bless the quiet ones. The peacemakers. The ones who don’t need the mic to move the crowd. Strengthen us, not to scream louder, but to stand firmer. Let our calm be as contagious as our laughter. Let our presence preach.

Thank You that gentleness is the fruit of the spirit. Thank You that you teach us, “Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Teach us to be gentle, not harsh. Help us be gentle and not harsh. Tame our tongue. Change our hearts and our minds to be all of who you call us to be. Help us be patient as You change us and cause a shift within us. Still our heart and our mind. Quiet our inner critic. Make us new as only You can.

And so it is. It is done. It is well. It is already well done. Aaamen!