Strength Made Perfect In Weakness

Over the past few months, it’s felt like everyone in my life has been handed the same exact script. My friends, family, and even acquaintances receive my current suffering and respond, “You’ll be fine, you are so strong.”

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“Strong” used to be a point of pride for me, a part of my identity I held as true as my name. I’m the oldest of four kids and the only girl. My entire life has been spent being “strong” – taking care of everyone around me, making sure everyone is okay, supporting people as they struggle, and offering hope and encouragement in times of despair. Even last year, while going through job recruitment, I spent a lot of my time trying to encourage my peers, even as I was going through the same crazy journey on my own.

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Most of all, to me, being strong meant “performing” – acting immune from weakness, pain, and failure. And when I did fail, I took it in stride. I thought I knew a lot about “strong” – but this situation feels different. Because, in reality, I feel the absolute opposite of strong. I feel very, very weak.

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Strong people don’t cry in stairwells at school. Strong people don’t need support, or encouragement. Strong people get over disappointments quickly and with ease.

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But everyone thought I was strong, which meant I needed to keep up appearances. The performances continued, even as I was deeply hurting. On top of everything else, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing this identity, too.

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Last week, I went to dinner with a good friend. We laughed over tacos, talking about school and life and all sorts of fun things. As we parted ways, I remember thinking, “Haha! I fooled her. I didn’t cry, I did it. She thinks I’m totally fine.”

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But as soon as I got home, my phone buzzed with a text from her. It said: “I know you’re hurting right now but I wanted to say that I know you’ll be ok and get through the other side. You’re strong. It doesn’t help at all but I know you’ll get through it”

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I was floored. It turns out, I didn’t fool her – in fact, I wasn’t fooling anyone. My friends and family haven’t been calling me strong because they think I’m okay – it’s because they know I’m going to be. My tears don’t take away my strength, neither does the slow and steady process of healing that I wish I could speed up.

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I finally understand the words of Jesus to St. Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In my weakness, Jesus can enter and give me strength to accept healing, to accept help, to accept the support and encouragement He wants for me in abundance.

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If you’re reading this, I’m sure that you’re going through something: a disappointment, a missed expectation, a heartbreak. I am so, so sorry that you are suffering. But I’m going to say it: you are strong. Not because you can handle it on your own, but because in your weakness, Jesus is strong. And He is so close to us, right here, right now.

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Please pray for me, as I pray for you!

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In Christ,

Jane

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What I’m loving right now:

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​Rules for Discernment with Fr. Timothy Gallagher​

This is an awesome YouTube video that goes over the basics of St. Ignatius’ discernment of spirits! I highly recommend checking it out here!

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Ep. 68 | Not my circus, not my monkeys?

One of the hardest parts of living and loving other people is trying to understand what our true responsibility is when it comes to loving and serving them. I’m a little bit of a fixer, which means I often find myself getting involved and passionate about situations in the lives of people I love – but is that what God calls us to? And if He does call us to get involved with the issues in other peoples’ lives, how can we do that with maximum peace and joy? In this episode I share the four questions I try to ask myself before taking action in situations that might not be what God is asking me to get involved with. Listen on Spotify, iTunes, or Anchor!

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• For all the members of this community and their intentions!

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