Strength that looks like Weakness

When was the last time you saw one of those tear-inducing videos from Britain/America’s Got Talent showcased on Facebook? The most unlikely of people blow us away with their remarkable skills. The crowd cries. The golden buzzer is pressed. I choke up; you might too. Something unexpected happens to prompt the emotional outbursts. I suppose it’s usually the surprise factor that gets my attention and the pride in their ability to overcome hard things that jerks my tears. Sometimes we draw conclusions based on what we think is good information only to later learn it was not at all as it seemed.

For YEARS, I cursed my body for its weakness. I griped about how it couldn’t be normal and just process food. I begged God for a “different stomach” – as if that were even possible. I wished for my stomach to be removed with the hopes I could eat again. I looked at my limbs, in all of their weakness, as though they belonged to someone else. As I threw myself from counter to counter in my kitchen as a way of propping myself up to prepare food for my children, I would boil with anger at my plight in the prison of my frail frame.

The fever and the hives made my head spin and I questioned how I could sustain these horrible symptoms for much longer. The explanation I settled on… I had a massively weak body. When I looked at my body I saw frailty, wimpy-ness, and brokenness. I saw massive, overwhelming, and life-altering weakness. How could I conclude anything different?

Until October 2017... In October of 2017 I learned my body was STRONG. My body had risen valiantly and kept my beast at bay despite the weakness that resulted from its fight with my foe. My body had protected my organs and body systems when my beast wanted to (and should have) own them. The beast definitively owned my stomach and it was after my whole being - and it should have won. My stomach lost the battle for a long while, but my body won the war. In one crazy moment, my entire perspective shifted. The new data point, my diagnosis, de-bunked every opinion I had previously held.

Have you ever held a belief and then allowed yourself to learn new information which subsequently shifted your entire worldview? If so, you understand the magnitude and jolt of this sort of epiphany. It was staggering for me. I was humbled by the frame I had cursed. My bitterness turned into thankfulness. I had eyes to see what was really happening and I owed myself an apology. My body had fought hard and won; it protected my organs, it protected my body systems, and it returned sight to my blind left eye. It required my misery, but look at all it was up against! No wonder I was miserable.

Sometimes we owe ourselves an apology and sometimes we owe others an apology. It’s tempting to be bullheaded and unwilling to allow new light to be shed on a belief we hold dear. It can be embarrassing to see the error of our beliefs. It is certainly humbling sometimes. And it can hurt.

In my case, it was freeing to see the deeper truth. I’m sorry I cursed my frame all those years. I didn’t give it the benefit of the doubt and there’s no telling the harm I did to myself mentally by taking such a negative attitude. It turns out, the thing that appeared to be weak was, in fact, remarkably strong.

In your own life, I wonder the things you approach about yourself skeptically or unforgivingly that may be serving you far greater than you could imagine. I hope someday you have eyes to see the beauty in what appears to be broken – that character “flaw,” that “unsightly” feature, that traumatic experience ruining you... Perhaps it holds the greatest strength you could imagine and serves greater good for your life than you could hope?

I hope we give ourselves and others the benefit of the doubt when we’re tempted to be condescending or skeptical. I hope you get to see the beauty and redemption in what appears to be completely broken. More than anything, I hope you give Jesus a chance at showing up in your life if you’ve been lessening His presence. Perhaps when you look back on the sands you have trodden the single set of footprints were His carrying you and not yours after all.

I wish God’s blessings and gentleness on you. I wish a kind and generous spirit toward yourself and others. I entreat us to allow our worldview to shift toward the redeemed and beautiful in the world. I wish us all to allow things to be better than they seem.