If I've Learned Anything, It's How Valuable My Heart Is

Neva Roenne
20 hours ago
3 min read

God wouldn’t make a heart as soft as mine, or build it like this, without making someone else who can hold it gently and courageously… right?

I’ve been single for about eight months now, after a two-year relationship. That is eight months of quiet. Eight months of long walks, long prayers, long talks with friends, and a lot of time in my own head and heart.

And here’s the plot twist: I actually like being single. I like my routines. I like my peace. I like who I am becoming when no one else’s emotions are louder than mine. (More on that another time.)

But if I’m honest, I also cannot wait to love someone again. I cannot wait to give my heart in that way again and not out of loneliness, not out of fear of being alone, but because loving deeply is just… who I am.

Maybe it’s Valentine’s Day. Maybe it’s the start of a new year. Maybe it’s something deeper stirring. But this question has been rattling around in my head lately:

If God made my heart this soft, this deep, this full… doesn’t that mean He made someone who can hold it well?

And after a lot of thinking and praying, I think I finally landed on the answer.

Yes... But.

Yes, of course the Lord has the tenderness and joy of your heart in mind. That part is easy. God doesn’t make mistakes when He designs a soul. Your softness is not a flaw. Your depth is not dramatic. Your capacity to love with both gentleness and strength is not “too much.” It is intentional. It is God-shaped.

And yes, there absolutely are people in this world who can hold a heart like yours with care and courage.

But having a heart like yours does not guarantee a specific person will show up on a specific timeline in a specific package.

And that “but” used to make me spiral. Now it makes me breathe.

Because what I’m starting to understand is this:

The purpose of my heart is not just to be chosen romantically.

The purpose of my heart is to reflect God.

A heart like mine is meant to love deeply. To bring warmth into rooms. To make people feel safe. To tell the truth gently. To forgive. To stay soft in a world that constantly tempts you to harden. That purpose is already being lived out right now with my friends, my family, strangers, and honestly, even with myself.

So maybe the prayer shifts.

Instead of:

“God, You made my heart soft, so where is the person who gets it?”

It becomes:

“God, You made my heart soft. Teach me how to steward it well until it is placed in hands that can honor it.”

Because a soft heart is not just a gift for someone else someday.

It is a responsibility right now.

It means learning boundaries.

It means not giving pieces of yourself to people who haven’t shown they can hold them.

It means not confusing chemistry with character.

It means not trying to prove your worth by how much you can endure.

I am not waiting to be chosen so my heart can finally have value.

I am learning the value of my heart now, so I don’t hand it to someone who doesn’t see it.

And maybe that’s what this season has really been about.

Not punishment.

Not delay.

Protection.

Growth.

Clarity.

You are not wrong to hope for love. That desire is holy. But we cannot measure God’s faithfulness by the speed of romance.

He has already been faithful in how He’s growing you, in what He’s shielding you from, and in how He’s teaching you that your heart is not fragile. It is precious and so so valuable.

And precious things are not rushed.

They are protected.

They are prepared for.

They are placed carefully.

So if you’ve been wondering whether your soft heart is a liability or a promise, let me tell you what I’m learning: