I’m sitting here alone, watching a TV show that has pulled me in. I remain focused on the unfolding, dramatic storyline. Without any warning, the actor on my screen says something, and arches his eye brows, all in a look that creates a flashback in my mind.
I lose my breath. I hold back a cry. I tightly curl my fingers into a fist, and gasp for that breath I lost. I feel the blood slowly making it’s way back down my body.
This is my reality. And that’s ok.
This is survival. The story of my survival.
There’s strength in knowing that something like a gesture, raised eye brows or even a smell can flood my mind with lost memories, but I can hold my own.
Why can I hold my own?
Jesus Christ is in me. My weakness is not my shame. My weakness is the reality. I do not have to mask this truth. The Lord’s power works best through my weakness. For this I am joyfully thankful.
There are many out there. Many who have remained hidden somewhere in the background. Fear stomping her fight. Shame draping over his shoulders like a heavy stone cape. The burden, effortlessly, weighing her down. Fatigue carries the beautiful broken into a deep sleep.
The fact that a memory can bring about reactions that may be terror to encounter, is a reason to know Jesus Christ. He loved me enough to live and die for my sin. He loved me enough to come back to this world, awaiting the moment to rise, once again, to his Father.
He loved me enough to desire to stay. By way of the Holy Spirit, he is with us for these times, through all things, in every depth of weakness.
It’s there, in the darkness of our pain, that His mighty power is displayed. So I can share my weakness, I can be honest about my personal struggles. In the end, those weaknesses usher in his glorious display of strength!
When I am weak, then I am strong.
2 Cor. 12:10