We all have this misunderstanding about heartbreak, which is we

Hear the words of Glennon Doyle Melton, who spoke with a voice both tender and fierce: “We all have this misunderstanding about heartbreak, which is we think we should avoid it. But what I think is that heartache is a clue toward the work we're supposed to be doing in the world. What breaks each person's heart is different – be it racial injustice, war, or animals. And when you figure out what it is that breaks yours, go toward it.” These words are not meant to console us into passivity, but to awaken us into action. They declare that pain is not the end of meaning, but the beginning of purpose.

The origin of this wisdom lies in Doyle’s own journey of transformation. She endured personal struggles—addiction, brokenness, the unraveling of what she once thought life should be—and discovered in her heartbreak a compass. For rather than fleeing from sorrow, she leaned into it, and found in it the direction of her calling: to bring healing, truth, and courage to others. Her insight reveals an ancient truth, one taught in many forms: that the wound is not our enemy, but our teacher.

The meaning of her words is that heartbreak is not to be shunned, for it reveals the tender places where love dwells most deeply. To be broken by racial injustice, to be pierced by the cruelty of war, to weep for the suffering of animals—these are not weaknesses. They are signals, showing us where our compassion is strongest, and where we are summoned to labor. Thus heartbreak is not a curse, but a calling. It tells us: here is where your soul is tied to the world, here is where you must plant yourself and act.

Consider the story of Harriet Beecher Stowe, who, upon witnessing the suffering of enslaved people, could not harden her heart. Her heartbreak at their chains gave birth to her novel Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which stirred consciences across America and fueled the abolitionist cause. Her tears became ink, her heartbreak became voice, and her voice became action. In this, we see Doyle’s wisdom made flesh: she did not flee her pain, but moved toward it, and in so doing, she helped bend the arc of history toward freedom.

We live in an age where the common instinct is to numb the heart, to flee from pain, to hide from sorrow behind distractions and noise. Yet Doyle’s words remind us that to numb the heart is to silence our deepest guidance. What breaks us also shapes us. When we allow ourselves to feel the full weight of injustice, violence, or cruelty, we discover not only grief, but power—the power to rise, to serve, to dedicate our lives to healing that wound in the world.

The lesson is that each of us must pay attention to our heartbreak. Do not dismiss it, do not run from it, do not label it weakness. Ask instead: what does this pain call me toward? If hunger in the world breaks your heart, then your path is to feed the hungry. If cruelty to animals rends your spirit, then your work is to protect them. If the cry of the oppressed shatters your peace, then you must stand with them. Each person’s heartbreak is different, yet together they form the great map of humanity’s unfinished work.

What, then, must we do? We must cultivate courage to go toward what breaks us. We must allow ourselves to be tender, to listen to the cries of the world without turning away. And then, step by step, we must turn heartbreak into service, grief into compassion, sorrow into action. For in this lies not only the healing of the world, but also the healing of our own souls.

Therefore, let Doyle’s words be passed down as a guide for generations: heartbreak is not the end of love, but its beginning. It is the place where our deepest humanity is revealed. Go toward it, and you will find your calling. Go toward it, and you will help mend the torn fabric of the world. And when enough hearts choose to walk into their pain with courage, then even the greatest wounds of humanity may yet be healed.