Strength. It’s an interesting thing that sometimes doesn’t make sense in the way that we want it to. At least not the way that I want it to. In my eyes I have always been strong. Honestly, that has been the expectation from everyone around me as well. So whatever happened I put on a tough exterior and played it off as though nothing was wrong. Insult by insult, brick by brick, I built walls so high that there was no way for me to climb out of them. And so I settled in. Into the lies that held me down. Into the charade that I didn’t feel a thing. Until eventually, I didn’t.
You see, I was so afraid of being found weak that I allowed the hurt to break me in silence, while I pretended that nothing ever affected me. As the years built upon each other it became easier and easier to block myself in but not without a price. In order for nothing to affect me, nothing could affect me. Gone were the emotions that made me sensitive, passionate and caring. Gone were the feelings for anything or anyone.
I was in sleep mode. Hibernating through my life, not only forgetting to connect with anyone but to experience anything. Instead of trying I would sit back and wait. In lieu of interacting I would observe. And after the pain was no longer masked on the inside but subsided, I found myself a shell of a person with no one around.
No one knew me because I had forgotten myself.
My own desires lay to the side because I was so afraid of failing that I wouldn’t even try.
Empty. Alone. Broken. Into pieces that no longer fit together. That was my life.
I was a puzzle that not even I could solve.
The process of breaking down the walls was a long and bumpy ride. It was one that involved many people, experiences and a lot of healing hurts I hadn’t even realized existed.
The walls fell slowly at first. Layer by layer they were removed until the maze no longer existed. And quite suddenly I found myself free. But freedom is a new concept for me.
To me the lack of walls has left me exposed, sensitive and vulnerable.
I am sure there are many sensitive people and hearts in the world. I am also sure that there are ways to protect you without isolating yourself behind walls of protection.
The problem for me is that I have been so long inside the safety of walls that I have no idea how to react without reconstructing what was there before.
Here comes the question for strength.
Can I be strong without being so guarded that it at least seems as though nothing can move beyond my tough exterior?
Can I protect myself without hurting others and completely pushing them away?
Can I be strong and still break?
You see I am so afraid of pain, especially public pain, that I just don’t know how to take a risk.
Is there strength in allowing yourself to be broken? Is there strength in being able to pick up the pieces and reconstruct a new heart; a new joy? Of course? But is there a way to avoid the pain without being forever alone inside a house with only walls?
Can I break and still be whole? But do I have to break?
Can I, instead of guarding myself away, and instead of making myself completely open to pain, guard my heart?
Is there another way to protect myself that does not also hurt me in the future?
Can strength manifest itself in a different way than the one that I am used to? Is there something more outside of my comfort zone?
I feel as though I am simply repeating questions and that is probably because I am. And that is because I am afraid of the answer.
And perhaps this is a moment of humility; an opportunity to find strength in a new way.
But that brings us back to the question: what is strength?
Is it being so tough that nothing shakes you? Or is it being able to pick yourself up when something breaks you?
Maybe I should just let go. Of the control, of the securities; of the safety net that I surround myself with. Maybe then I will discover that strength is trust; the ability to stand in a situation without fleeing at the first sign of turmoil.
Not trust in myself though and my own ability to survive but trust in a God that will carry my heart in safety.
So what happens if I give my heart to God, wholly and completely?
Psalm 28:7 says “The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.”
The promise is there, the question is whether I will act on it and trust in his help.
Can I truly surrender all and give him complete control? Or will I allow the fear of failure, the fear of myself, stand in the way of living life in the fullest, most perfect way possible?
I think it is time I take a leap of faith and honestly give God the rights to my heart. No holding back if he lays something on it and no giving it away to anything myself.
Strength comes when I rely entirely on him. Only in making myself weak can I truly rely on the strength of the Lord. As new of an experience as that is for me I think that it is the only true, reliable strength there is.
