Quiet Strength over Silent Killer
Silence ≠ Weakness
Good Friday just hits different when you’ve been through betrayal.
Not the small kind—the kind that rips through your heart. The kind that makes you feel hollow and invisible. The kind that makes you question everything you believed about trust, loyalty, and even faith.
Last year, our family went through it. In a place that claimed to be about Jesus and community, we felt abandoned. Exposed. Unprotected. Like our pain was nothing more than someone else’s platform. I’ll never forget what it felt like to be at the mercy of people who smiled to our faces but used our hurt for their own gain.
And that’s what brought me back to Jesus—specifically to the moment Judas kissed Him in Luke 22. A kiss. A symbol of affection that turned into a weapon. That hit me deep, because I know what it’s like to be hurt by someone who was once close.
But Jesus... He didn’t react the way I wanted to. He didn’t fight. He didn’t curse. He didn’t run. He stood in quiet strength and trusted the Father’s plan.
That moment in the garden—Jesus confronted the silent killer of betrayal and began what would be the greatest come back of all time. Let’s remember that silence isn't weakness—it's where true strength emerges.
He could’ve called angels. He could’ve ended it all right then. But He didn’t. He stayed. He surrendered. And He showed us how to carry pain without letting it harden us.
And so, if you’re walking through betrayal like we did—if you feel the sting of being left out, lied to, or taken advantage of—hear this: It’s not the betrayal that defines you. It’s your response.
Jesus didn’t let betrayal stop Him. He let it set the stage for resurrection.
This Good Friday, I’m choosing to trust the comeback. I’m choosing quiet strength over loud bitterness. I’m choosing to believe that even in the silence, God is working.
And friend—so can you.
