Ever since Shirley’s diagnosis I have received many comments, both in-person and online, saying things like “You’re so strong!” and “I don’t know if I could handle it if my child were going through that.” Each time I struggle with how to respond. I usually keep it short and respond to something else they may have said, or say a simple “Oh, I’m not that strong.” I would feel dishonest responding in any other way. I’m not trying to call-out anyone who has said this to me, because I know what they really mean is this, “what you’re dealing with is hard.” Which is true! But everyone goes through difficult things. It doesn’t take a strong person to get through it. Perhaps it takes the very opposite.
The truth is, I’m not strong at all. I would not cope with any aspect of Shirley’s situation, or even with my life in general, for that matter, if I didn’t believe in something larger than myself. If I didn’t believe that there is something greater than this life, the weight of the pain and the unknown would definitely crush me. So, I must not look to myself for strength. My only way through the shadows is by keeping my eyes fixed on the light. Christ is that light.
I do not always feel as if I am walking in darkness. Right now, I can say that things are actually easy. We live quite normally, aside from the extra doctor and therapy appointments. I have time to collect my thoughts and to write. God has given me a season of rest. Imagine that, coming from the mother of a two-year-old! I do not know how long it will last. I expect it to end at some point; but I do not dread it. We will shift into a season of work and of weeping. A season of hammering, chiseling, and purification by fire. I do not dread it because it is God’s will. It is His best for me. It may be painful, but He will guide me through. And I will come out on the other side more sanctified. Those are hard words, but in this shattered world I must live by them.
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance…” Ecclesiastes 3:1-4
When I look at Shirley, I am reminded of God’s strength being made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). Physically, she is so objectively weak. No one can deny it. She cannot care for herself. She is fragile. She is timid and unsure. She cannot walk, she can barely crawl and she stands on trembling legs. But God is using her. I trust that He is equipping her to do all of the work he has planned for her. Not only to help shape me and Joseph, but to reach out to others, sometimes even people we have never met! Just like the blind man in the Gospel, she is weak so that “the works of God might be displayed” in her (John 9:3). That doesn’t necessarily mean He will display Himself through bodily healing – He can use her for His glory however he pleases. I may not particularly like the way He chooses to glorify himself through her. It might not be what I would choose for her, but he is Lord. He does what He deems best. Who am I to question Him?
I can turn this observation toward myself as well. Although, unlike Shirley, I have been blessed with a healthy physical body, I am still weak. I cannot spiritually care for myself. I am timid and unsure. My heart trembles and I often falter. I am feeble and wretchedly sinful. I am not enough. But God, in the face of my weakness, sent His son to die for me. He made the ultimate gesture of love toward me. I am now his bond-servant and He will use me for His glory – not mine. That is a humbling thought.
“For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 1:26-31
Anything good that comes from me is not my own. Any strength I may seem to possess is not my own. For I am created by God, for God. He has already put into place all of the work that I will ever accomplish (Ephesians 2:10). Elisabeth Elliot lays out this point very well: “It was God’s idea. He did the designing. He expects us to work, just as the designer of a precision instrument, if he understands the principles involved and designs it accordingly, expects the thing to work. It is of no great credit to the instrument if it does.” (Discipline: The Glad Surrender)
I can honestly look back at the last few years, and be grateful for all of the moments when I was bluntly reminded of my frailty and inability to manage. They have forced me to refocus, to restructure my worldview. For He alone gives strength. He alone will equip me to persevere in seasons of rest and seasons of work, in seasons of laughter and seasons of anguish.
I must hold the truth of His sacrifice for my redemption constantly before my eyes. Without it I would not be able to endure one “normal” day in this fallen and broken world, let alone the difficult ones.
-Brianna
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