Broken Kingdoms: WK5 - TUE
2 Kings 22:18–19 (NLT)
"You were sorry and humbled yourself before the Lord when you heard what I said against this city… You tore your clothing in despair and wept before me in repentance. And I have indeed heard you, says the Lord."
For years, Lance Armstrong, seven time Tour de France winner, didn't just deny the doping allegations, he went after people. Journalists, former teammates, anyone who got close to the truth. He sued them and publicly humiliated them. He called them liars with the kind of confidence that made you wonder if maybe he was telling the truth after all. The defensiveness was so total, so aggressive, that people started to wonder “maybe we’ve just got it wrong.”
And then in 2013 he sat down with Oprah and said yes to everything. What's interesting isn't the confession itself, it's the years before it. All that energy spent managing the story, redirecting scrutiny, attacking the question rather than answering it. It's exhausting just to think about, and the whole time, the truth was simply waiting.
Which is what makes Josiah so amazing. When the scroll is read aloud, when he hears how far the kingdom, his Kingdom, has drifted from what God intended, he doesn't redirect. He doesn't question who found it or why it's being read now or what the political implications might be. He tears his robes and weeps publicly, the text makes it obvious that something just breaks open in him.
God's response to Josiah is almost startling in its simplicity: He says "I have heard you." Not "you fixed it," not "you reversed the damage." Josiah’s tender heart was enough to change the trajectory that his Kingdom was on.
In my research on differentiation of self (a measure of emotional self leadership) one of the consistent patterns is how hard it is for leaders to stay open when truth pushes back against them. The instinct is to harden, to protect the self-image, manage the exposure, control the narrative. And that instinct isn't stupidity. It's actually pretty understandable. But it closes something down that becomes very difficult to reopen, and the longer it stays closed the more energy it takes to keep it that way.
Armstrong spent years in that place. Josiah spent maybe thirty seconds. He heard the words, felt the weight of them, and just let them do what they needed to do. I think that's what Scripture means by a tender heart, it’s someone who cries easily when watching Rom Com’s, but someone who remains permeable to truth even when truth is costly. Someone who can still be reached. And it turns out that's exactly what God was looking for.
"You were sorry and humbled yourself before the Lord when you heard what I said against this city… You tore your clothing in despair and wept before me in repentance. And I have indeed heard you, says the Lord."
For years, Lance Armstrong, seven time Tour de France winner, didn't just deny the doping allegations, he went after people. Journalists, former teammates, anyone who got close to the truth. He sued them and publicly humiliated them. He called them liars with the kind of confidence that made you wonder if maybe he was telling the truth after all. The defensiveness was so total, so aggressive, that people started to wonder “maybe we’ve just got it wrong.”
And then in 2013 he sat down with Oprah and said yes to everything. What's interesting isn't the confession itself, it's the years before it. All that energy spent managing the story, redirecting scrutiny, attacking the question rather than answering it. It's exhausting just to think about, and the whole time, the truth was simply waiting.
Which is what makes Josiah so amazing. When the scroll is read aloud, when he hears how far the kingdom, his Kingdom, has drifted from what God intended, he doesn't redirect. He doesn't question who found it or why it's being read now or what the political implications might be. He tears his robes and weeps publicly, the text makes it obvious that something just breaks open in him.
God's response to Josiah is almost startling in its simplicity: He says "I have heard you." Not "you fixed it," not "you reversed the damage." Josiah’s tender heart was enough to change the trajectory that his Kingdom was on.
In my research on differentiation of self (a measure of emotional self leadership) one of the consistent patterns is how hard it is for leaders to stay open when truth pushes back against them. The instinct is to harden, to protect the self-image, manage the exposure, control the narrative. And that instinct isn't stupidity. It's actually pretty understandable. But it closes something down that becomes very difficult to reopen, and the longer it stays closed the more energy it takes to keep it that way.
Armstrong spent years in that place. Josiah spent maybe thirty seconds. He heard the words, felt the weight of them, and just let them do what they needed to do. I think that's what Scripture means by a tender heart, it’s someone who cries easily when watching Rom Com’s, but someone who remains permeable to truth even when truth is costly. Someone who can still be reached. And it turns out that's exactly what God was looking for.
- When was the last time God’s truth genuinely moved your heart rather than just your mind?
- Where are you tempted to stay guarded instead of tender?
- What might it look like today to let God meet you in honest humility?

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