Cliches of Strength

I believe at our core we are each beautifully strong and terribly vulnerable. These forces are always in some equilibrium. Sometimes the stronger we are the harder we fall, and sometimes the weaker we feel the more we conjure up some superhuman strength--I'm thinking of the Grinch holding the entire contents of Whoville's Christmas when his heart grew.

Our church did a sermon series of cliches of faith. I was thinking about the cliches of strength. You know--what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, no pain no gain.  Blah, blah, blah.

I'm feeling stronger than a year ago, that is, I can hold a plank pose longer and do a couple more pushups. You can feel mentally strong too--I'm memorizing music for the first time in a while and Brahms will stretch your brain, that's for sure.  It feels good to be strong--mentally and physically. Emotionally.

At any given time we are all on the tight rope, that balance beam of strength and weakness, love and fear.

When we don't feel so strong we sometimes fall back on cliches. Here's one: we don't know how strong we are until being strong is the only choice. After the sacred and terrible phone call confirming my dad's terminal diagnosis, I hung up, and like I often do, stared out at the beautiful nature I'm blessed to see through my back window.  The only thing that I could think of was. . . here we go. We have to go through this. We are not given a choice. Five years later, I don't know if I'm stronger or weaker for that. It just was.

Our lives are not perfect. Sometimes we make bad decisions and we have to live with that, but sometimes things just happen and we have to live with that too. And sometimes someone else makes the bad decision for us. I'm thinking of the hit and run drunk driver from last February. We were fine, but bad things happen to good people every day. Accidents happen. Illness happens. Addiction happens. Whatever the cause, sometimes we just have to put one foot in front of the other and go through the result. We don't always have a choice. Being strong becomes our only choice.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Calvin has that on his bedroom door. But Christ mostly works through our people. Our local angels. We never have to try to be strong alone. There is strength in numbers. That's why we are here. To pray. To show up. To be a community. Didn't we learn that with my dad? Maybe that is the strength lesson. When life gives you more than you can handle, God gives you people. And they show up mysteriously at the right time.

Here is my favorite less famous cliche, from a Curly Girl greeting card: I don't think we know our own strength, until we have seen how strong love makes us. The gal has heart shaped boxing gloves. Heart shaped boxing gloves. I like that. And, I know it's true, love makes us stronger than we know. God's love through our people. Sending it out. . . to everyone who needs a little strength.