The Strength You Don’t Announce

Power isn’t loud, it’s aligned.

There is a kind of strength the world recognizes, and a kind it constantly overlooks.

One is noisy, attention grabbing, always explaining itself.

The other is quiet, settled, and utterly unbothered by applause.

Guess which one Heaven endorses.

The longer I walk with God, the more I realize that the greatest strength you will ever have is the strength no one sees.

The kind that lives under your rib cage, sits behind your patience, and rises up only when the Holy Spirit calls it forward.

This is the strength God trusts His inheritance with.

Because strength that announces itself is still insecure.

But strength that stands still and listens, that is the evidence of a soul that has been disciplined, divided, and ordered.

That’s soul esteem.

It’s the strength that doesn’t need to win the room because it has already won the internal war.

It’s the strength that doesn’t rush to prove, defend, or justify because it understands this simple truth:

When God is your validation, explanations become optional.

When my daughters were younger, I didn’t have a lot of loud strength to show them.

I didn’t have wealth, luxury, or the kind of security people post about online.

But I had a quiet resilience that fed us.

A steadfast trust that kept us.

A whisper-deep dependence on Jesus that carried us through seasons where the math didn’t add up but the mercy did.

Looking back, I realize something.

They didn’t learn strength from the moments where I held it together.

They learned strength from the moments where I surrendered and God held me.

That’s why the inheritance you're stepping into requires this kind of internal solidity.

God won’t pour destiny into a divided soul.

He pours destiny into a settled one.

He pours inheritance into the ones who don’t have to wave their strength around because they’ve lived enough life to know:

• God sees

• God hears

• God knows

• God keeps

• God fulfills

And the enemy knows it too.

That’s why he keeps trying to bait you into proving yourself.

Into arguments.

Into defensiveness.

Into emotional detours.

But this stage of your inheritance requires something different.

You’re stepping into the kind of strength that doesn’t react, it recognizes.

It recognizes distractions for what they are.

It recognizes manipulation for what it is.

It recognizes peace as protective, not passive.

When you reach this level of soul esteem, your silence becomes a weapon and your calm becomes a shield.

This part of the journey isn’t about becoming stronger.

It’s about realizing you already are.

And maybe for the first time in your life, you’re seeing that the strength God gave you isn’t loud at all.

It’s holy.

It’s steady.

It’s inherited.

And it’s right on time.

~Jackie

(For the woman who’s finally learning she doesn’t have to roar to be powerful.)