I’ve been circling around the idea of gentleness for two months now. It’s one of those ideas that just keeps popping up in my head, jumping out in sermons I’ve heard and leaping off the page in books, showing up in conversations and now becoming something that I’m looking for around the corners of my life.

It started in December when this verse got stuck in my head, “Let your gentleness be evident to all” (Philippian 4:5). Who knows why verses get stuck in our heads, circling around in there and then making their way into our lives, but for me, it’s because I’ve felt the opposite of gentle lately.

I know gentle people, and I’ve never considered myself one of them. I don’t think I’ve ever been described as gentle. Type A, goal-oriented, driven, responsible, a woman who knows what she wants, one who chomps at the bit, but not gentle. It’s something I realize that I need for myself, so I’ve tagged it as my New Year’s resolution.

I want evidence of gentleness in my life.

Gentleness to me is an attitude, one that displays a faith that trusts and accepts, that holds things lightly. Gentleness does not grind her teeth, push more than what’s necessary into the day. Gentleness knows that there is enough.

Gentleness is boundaries and balance, the knowledge of the right time. Flexibility, pliability, a search for the long-term answers instead of the short-term fix. Gentleness is not push or pull, but a quiet determination coupled with a steady patience. Gentleness holds out for the right time and the right thing.

Gentleness forgives and leaves the past in the past, the future right where it is. Gentleness does not freak out. Gentleness minds its own business, stays calm, assumes the best. Gentleness handles people with care.

For everything, it seems, there is a gentle approach: slow words, open ears, choosing the path that leads to peace.

You can only have gentleness when you have faith. It doesn’t come from me or my striving. It comes from the Spirit in me, the one that calls out “Father, help me,” the one that falls on knees in front of His grace, that stops to marvel at his timing and knowledge and love.

Gentleness is a lofty goal, but something God wants from us because it’s good for us, so I’ve been laying down with my children each night, praying the prayer my parents taught me to pray, the first prayer I could say all by myself:

Jesus Savior, wash away,

All that I’ve done wrong today.

Help me every day to be,

Good and gentle, more like thee.