Before I could open my eyes good, You were there to greet me. Good morning, God. "You are weak," You said. I had been trying not to deal with it. It wasn't that You called me weak, you were only reminding me what someone else said. And those words had been silently taunting me since they were spoken. Some things roll right off my shoulder but something about that opinion caused me pause. Am I weak? I pondered. What do you believe? You asked.
In times past when faced with these daunting questions about myself, I would automatically start sifting through relics from my past for answers. You know those boxes you keep in storage behind the Christmas tree ornaments and seasonal clothing: how I was parented, what my daddy said to me, my strict upbringing, relationships gone bad. Those were the normal bags I'd pull out of storage and go through. Ah yes, and those boxes closer to the front: what I dealt with in my marriage, post-empty nest singleness. I call that my "now what" box.
Not this time. What I believe has to do with my now not my then. For I have grown into the Wiser me, much like a 2 year old foot grows into a size 10 shoe. Actually, my shoe size is a 6 1/2, but you get my point. I've nurtured the wounded child, educated the naieve adult, de-stigmatized the divorcee and become comfortable in my own skin. So instead, I look in my big gurl closet – the one in my bedroom - for the answer. I look among the clothes that I have hanging now. Yes, those Misses size 6's that fit me perfectly.
This garment is my favorite! When I hold this one up to me, I think I'm my most radiant. The parenting of my son. I raised a fine young man. And though my role has changed, my son still considers me a safe place. Ummm, I love that Golden color. Looks good against my skin. Next outfit. Yes, my favorite work outfit. I have a great job. I work flexible hours, work from home 2 days out of the week and pretty much go and come when I please. It didn't just happen though. I was assertive and it paid off. On this hanger is compassion. Feels like silk. It was tested when a family member rejected me and said it was my fault. I could have pointed out her faults in retaliation Instead, my Silky Self recognized her pain and responded with empathy.
Oh yeah, this sweater. As I run my fingers along its fabric, it is a little more coarse than the others. Not my favorite piece cause it doesn't feel very good. It's called admitting when I'm wrong. I don't like this one that much but I've had to wear it a few times. Humility. I put this garment on just this past Tuesday morning, in fact. I admitted that my temper gets the best of me sometimes. Those hidden triggers that cause me to go on the attack. They've been there for a long time. I've minimized them, even thought I was better, cause normally I'm a pretty cool person. But ooh-we, when someone detonates one of those suckers, KABLAM! That is a problem. My Wise Self knows that it needs to be dealt with now. So, after I apologized, I found an anger management session in town and went that same night.
Now I have to be honest. When someone you love is critical, even if it's constructive, it doesn't feel good. I use to take what someone said to me and defer to their opinion of me. Not any more. I've learned over the years to appeal to the Spirit of Truth, the Wise Counselor, the All-Knowing God who Created me and makes no mistakes. What others say might be true, but only His opinion is The Truth.
When I went to the endodontist and was silently struggling, my Creator sent his answer through two unlikely people. I couldn't stop crying. I had gotten a needle in my gums and it was as if my heart resounded its pain in response. It was then that the Asian dental assistant said to me "You cry. You have soft heart. That's good. So many woman trying to be so strong. Keep pain, hurt inside. Not good. Think crying is weakness. Tears are gift. Cleanse soul. Heal heart." She patted me and said, "cry and you will heal." She wiped my tears. No one in the room but her and me. Then the endodontist came in to check to see if I was numb enough. During the root canal, he exclaimed, "You are a strong woman! With your tooth this inflamed, I don't see how you could have functioned as long as you did. A week? Most folks couldn't have done that." The dental assistant agreed. "You're a tough little cookie!," he said.
In the final analysis, it's the Truth of your words that speak the loudest. And let's say, worst case scenario, I am weak. Your strength is made perfect in my weakness. That's Your answer even for that. Sooooo, I guess you could say I am your strength made perfect. Perhaps even, this is my anger management: I don't have to retaliate. Simply stand in your strength.
