A Poem: Letting Go of Shame

The opposite of shame
is not puffed-up pride
but a quiet knowing—
I am enough.

It is self-acceptance,
the gentle hand that cups your face
and says,
You are good.

It is honor,
not bestowed by others
but rising from within
like a steady flame
that refuses to go out.

It is dignity—
walking barefoot on the earth,
head bowed
not in defeat
but in reverence.

It is unconditional love
not earned
but given,
a whisper older than time:
You are mine.
You are loved.
You are free.

Letting go of shame
is a slow unclenching,
a loosening of the fists
that once gripped
the names others gave you.

It is the choice
to lay down the heavy cloak
stitched from old voices—
unworthy, broken, wrong—
and step out
naked in the light.

And in that nakedness,
in that vulnerable release,
something unexpected appears—
a flicker,
soft and persistent.

The beginning of hope.
Hope that comes gently
like the soft coo of a mourning dove.

You do not chase it.
You let it rise.

You learn to trust
healing is not a destination
but a direction,
as you recognize grace
has been walking beside you all along.

The opposite of shame
is a return—
to your True Self,
to love,
to the quiet truth
that you were never lost.

Grace helps us remember who we are:
God’s Beloved—
formed and fashioned
by the Creator’s hands of love.

—brian j plachta

A Reflection: The Sycamore and the Beloved

For much of my life, shame whispered that something was wrong with me—that I was too much—or not enough.

It came cloaked in old voices: a loved one’s harsh words, a coach’s glare, the Church’s rigid rules.

I tried to outrun it by achieving, pleasing, even praying harder. But shame always seemed to win.

Then one afternoon during a silent retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, grace found me.

I was walking the gravel path behind the chapel when I stopped beneath a towering sycamore tree. Its bark was peeling like old skin weathered and mottled by time. I reached out and placed my hand on its trunk.

And something shifted.

The tree seemed to speak—not in words but in presence. It had stood there through seasons of storm and silence, letting go of what no longer served it.

In its stillness, I felt a quiet invitation:
You too can let go.
You are still growing. Still beloved.

Tears came—not from sadness, but from release.

The sycamore became more than a tree. It became a mirror of grace.

It showed me that letting go of shame is not erasing the past but allowing a deeper truth to rise: underneath it all, I am the Beloved.

Being the Beloved means your worth is not earned—it’s given.

It means you are deeply known, unconditionally loved, and eternally held by a Presence that sees beyond your flaws or achievements.

It means:

 •   Your identity is rooted in love, not in what you do, achieve, or fail at.

   •   You are cherished, not because you’ve earned it, but because God delights in you as God’s child.

   •   You are never alone—God is with you, for you, and within you, even when you don’t feel it.

   •   You are worthy of love—not because you’re perfect, but because you’re created in love and for love.

Henri Nouwen wrote, “Being the Beloved expresses the core truth of our existence.” It’s a truth that often needs to be remembered, not learned.

It is a homecoming.

That day beneath the sycamore marked a turning point.

It didn’t fix everything. But it planted something—
a seed of hope,
a flicker of grace,
a deeper knowing.

And that knowing continues to shape me.

Little by little, God’s love is softening the places hardened by shame,
unfolding my soul into the truth:

I was never broken.
Just becoming.

I was never alone.
Just waiting to be still enough to feel the Presence.

I was never unworthy.
I have always been—
and will always be—
God’s Beloved.

—brian j plachta
brianplachta.com

A Spiritual Practice:
Letting Go of Shame: A 3-Step Practice

Use this when shame rises. Let it be a sacred pause—a moment to return to who you truly are.

1. Name the Shame

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath.

Ask yourself:

What is shame saying to me right now?

Gently name it—without judgment. Just notice the voice.

2. Speak the Truth

Place your hand on your heart. Say slowly and with love:

•  I am good. 
•  I am enough. 
•  I am God’s Beloved. 

Let these words sink in. This is your true identity.

3. Let It Go

Imagine laying down a heavy cloak made of old voices.

Feel light on your skin—warm, healing, loving.

Say:

I am not my shame.
I am God’s Beloved, always.

Breathe. Rest in that truth.

Then gently return to your day.

—brian j plachta
brianplachta.com

A Tool for Your Spiritual Toolbox:
Find Your Flow

Are you looking for a way to experience God’s presence in a deeper, more personal way? Are you looking for a pathway to happiness?

Finding Flow: Spiritual Practices to Reclaim Inner Peace, Balance, and Wholeness offers simple, transformative practices to help you connect with divine flow and GROW! so you can experience inner peace, balance, and wholeness.

Click the link below to purchase your copy and find your flow deepen  your today.

Click here to get your copy

Podcast Episode 14:
The Sacred Intersection:
Living the Cross in Everyday Life

In this Easter podcast reflection, discover how the cross is more than a symbol—it’s a living metaphor for your spiritual journey.

Through guided meditation and gentle insight, explore the vertical connection to God and the horizontal call to love others.

Find your center, where heaven and earth meet within you—and remember: you are connected, guided, and deeply loved. You are God’s Beloved

Click Here to Listen

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