Strength

We often view strength in the physical sense. How much you can physically carry. How much you can weight lift. How much you can pull in a game of tug of war. There is also the strength of an object. How strong the wind is. How strong the metal or material is.

But there is another kind of strength that isn’t talked about much. It’s a quiet strength. The strength you see when others go through hard times and they endure without breaking. The strength of someone who doesn’t give up no matter how hard of a road they are facing. It’s called mental and emotional strength.

Often when that kind of strength is talked about our minds immediately jump to the thought of that person not giving up, not breaking, not falling apart, not struggling etc. But that’s not true.

Breaking down is not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign that the weight is overwhelming or the path is hard. It’s a sign of letting yourself feel the heartache, the grief, the pain etc. We are human and it’s not wrong to let yourself feel these things.

True strength is found not in falling apart, but in what happens when you do. Strength is seen in pulling yourself back together and continuing down the road or continuing to face the hard times. It’s dusting yourself off, squaring your shoulders and quietly saying I’m not going to give up. It is a quiet strength. Often only noticed behind the scenes. It’s the fight that is deep inside of you.

I used to grow frustrated with people who told me that I was strong because the whole time I’m thinking I’m not strong. I’m weak. I’m falling apart. I’m breaking under the weight of a life I did not choose for myself. I’m struggling to be okay with pain that never lets up. I’m struggling to accept limitations I didn’t ask for. I’m struggling to be ok with letting go of the dreams I had for my future. All these things….I would tell myself if I was strong then I would be handling everything with my TBI so much better. I wouldn’t be silently crying behind closed doors telling God I don’t know how I can go on.I have given up at times. I have had my hopes dashed time after time and it’s spiraled me. I have had moments of thinking I can’t handle one more day of pain and just wanting to end it all. I don’t know how any of that is called strength. If anything it shows how weak I am.

But I’m learning that strength is quiet. It’s shown in all those moments. I’m learning that strength is something deep inside of me. It is resilience. The strength of endurance, It’s staying in for the long haul. Strength is found not only in what doesn’t move in the wind, but in those things that bend in the storm and are still there when it blows over.

I’m still here. Still working on getting symptoms better. Still fighting. Still pushing through day by day the best I can with God giving me little bits of grace to get me through. I’m still falling apart but I’m not quitting. And all of that…….is strength. It’s endurance. It’s holding up under the pressure and still standing. Bending but not breaking.