Powerfully Weak

I’ve missed writing.  Words empower me but  for a long time I have felt weak, defeated, a victim.

I allowed myself to become all those things.  I even sent out a few invitations to my pity party.

Fortunately, nothing lasts forever.  I started to get angry, first at others and then myself.  I was not very nice.

On a recent day, when my internal judge and jury reared its head and pronounced silently in the courtroom of my mind, that the people I was with at the moment were a mess, the wiser part of me stepped forward quickly and said,  “You’re a mess too.”

OUCH.

Wise me was right.  I didn’t want to admit it.  I started listing all the challenges in my life in hopes of building a case for myself.  What was I trying to justify?  Victimhood?  Dysfunction?  I deleted that list quickly.  There goes that blog entry.

Time passes.  I still wanted my fingers to flutter across the keys while words appear like magical rows of expression but I won’t let it happen.  I don’t feel worthy.  I don’t feel powerful.

Finally, a breakthrough. . . (which is a lot better than a breakdown.)

When this morning’s alarm went off introducing a chorus of guttural groans into my slumber, I stumble to the shower only to catch an unwelcome glance at myself in the mirror.

Internal judge and jury quickly announce “you look like a sack of potatoes!”

Wiser me tries to temper my unflattering announcement but gives up quickly.  I do look a bit like a sack of potatoes in which a few of the potatoes are not yet done shifting.

Finally, in the shower, the image of a burlap sack with a few loose potatoes falling into odd places made me smile.  There, in that little cathedral of soap scum and creeping mildew, I knew that in my weakness and imperfections lie my greatest strength.   Life and potatoes had distracted me.

As I shuffle into evening, I find this quote in the book I’m reading.

I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.  Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is make 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 weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.  For when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12: 7-10

Need I say more?

I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.

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The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
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