Strength

Strength: the inherent capacity to manifest energy, to endure, and to resist

2 Corinthians 12:9-10

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.  That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Psalm 46:1 God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.

What makes an individual capable of claiming that he/she is strong? What sort of experiences lead to the entitlement of encompassing strength?

• Is is the single mother of five who has to work three jobs just to keep food on the table and a roof over her families head...
• Is it the seven year old who is the primary caregiver for her two younger siblings, living under grandma's roof because her parents are deceased...
• Is it the husband of a woman who is facing the end stage medical complications of terminal cancer...
• Is it the victim of a tsunami who no longer has a place to call home...
• Is it a young couple who is told they are not able to have children...
• Is it a heartbroken young adult who faces the challenges of loneliness...
• Is it the fear in a child hiding in the closet while daddy tries to distract the perpetrator, and the sound of a gunshot fires...  

The world is filled with treacherous, heartbreaking stories. Each person has a soft spot in their soul that is able to establish an association with certain experiences and a connection to various circumstances. I feel as if we are made, in the image of God, to be relational--and there is a meaning behind each and every chapter of our fleeting lives. 

For instance, I have spent years in the hospital as a patient. When I was a mere 13 years old, I remember lying in a hospital bed, the beeping of IV medication being pumped into my veins, attempting to fight the unknown infection that, according to medical professionals, was taking my life with every second. The plan of action was to use strong medications to demolish the infection, before the strong medications made an irreversible turn on my immune system and hindered the function of my organs. I remember every detail as the physician's lips vocalized, "you may only have a few weeks left on this earth." I remember holding my mother's hand as my heart picked up its pace, and the sinking feeling of realizing that I was not invincible. All I wanted was to return to junior high and go to the mall with all the other kids. I would even take twice as much homework everyday in order to return to my normal self. It's as if the world stopped, and each tick of the second hand was eating away at my bones--because I was going to die. There, I said it. Those three letters. DIE. And then... I had to keep fighting. It's not as if I could just let the disease take my life without a fair chance. But the ultimate decision wasn't up to me. God is the maker and designer of where my days will take route. And I am ever so thankful for the prayers that were lifted on my behalf, because after seven days spent in my own personal white room that I quickly referred to as my coffin, I was healed.  My body regained its strength, and my lab levels were clear. The physical manifestations of my illness ceased to exist. The physician, yet once again, rings clear in my memory as he stated, "Honey, the Lord must've had more plans for you, because we have no reason for you to stay in this hospital. You get to go home today." 

Of course, everything didn't go immediately back to normal. The physician made it clear that I would never be able to play soccer and be active again, that my body was not able to endure the stress that I used to exert on a daily basis. In fact, my mentality and problem solving capability, or lack thereof, made it impossible for me to master a puzzle consisting of 25 pieces. Frustration began to set in: how was I going to finish the seventh grade if I couldn't even do a child's puzzle. My eyesight went from 20/20 to hazy street signs and blurry television screens to needing glasses. Walking from my bedroom to the living room took my breath away. It seemed as if I would never regain what I once had, that my baseline was unattainable. But the prayers continued to lift up to the Lord, and I continued to fight on. My support system played an exponential role in achieving the lifestyle I once had. My parents are my heroes. Each day brought forth tiny steps forward, and sometimes, large steps backwards. But the goal was to keep fighting, to reach new limits, and to trust that the Lord had plans that were greater than I could ever imagine. 

And today, I realize that he has blessed me with my weaknesses. I cannot fathom the possibilities that he has placed before me as a direct result of my past. He gave me the desire to become a nurse, and care for people as I once was cared for as a patient. He made it possible for me to play college soccer, and now has enabled me to have the position of assistant soccer coach for the Lady Bison. I am unable to fathom the pages of the chapters of the rest of my life that are yet to be written and that through my weaknesses, I have become strong. He is the author and the perfecter of my faith, my life, and my dreams. 

So, going back to the initial word--strength. What does this word mean to me and how would I define it?

Strength means holding on to the unattainable, because God is able to move mountains. Strength is relying on support systems and having a foundational church family that is able to uphold an individual in times of need and vulnerability. Strength is letting go of the situation and trusting that He is in control. Strength is taking one's past, and using the moments of hardship to face another day. Strength is re-surfacing the challenges of the past in order to help others in the present who are in similar circumstances. Strength is taking one day at a time, or even one breath at a time and accepting the challenge. Strength is built on a mentality. Strength is overcoming what the world says is impossible. Strength is facing the reality that life on earth is not the real reason we have been created. Strength is accepting, when running is more appealing. Strength is not concrete, it is an aspect of life that is made through the pages and stories that develop into the photobook of one's life.