The workout got the best of me. New to the gym and programming, my time was the slowest out of my entire group. Chest heaving up and down and hands on my hips, pride died right there next to me in a pool of sweat. That day, we were required to complete a combination of running, wall balls, and box jumps while being timed. “I don’t run,” I remember mentioning to the trainer as the starting bell sounded. I ran anyway. It wasn’t pretty.
My husband will tell you that I’m stubborn, a little never-give-up. It’s both a blessing and a curse to him, being my partner and all. There’s a lot of healthy debate in our home, but on the flip side, he trusts me to work hard and to advocate for our family. He says that he appreciates the fight in me. So, just as he predicted, I went back to the gym.
A few weeks later and feeling only slightly more proficient than before, we discovered a couple of things that I could do fairly well. I remember the exact morning that I realized I was glad that I hadn’t given up that day. “You know, Meg,” the trainer started. “You came in pretty unassuming, but you’re a strong girl.”
Reserved. Meek. Bashful. You may be able to relate. Our strength isn’t always visible on the outside. Sometimes it’s tucked away, shielded from even our own eyes so that we’re approachable to others. Unassuming. It can be a quiet strength that doesn’t have to scream its arrival to the world – that doesn’t have to overpower anyone to prove a point.
Most times, our strength shines the most brightly during moments of frustrating weakness. When we think we’ve failed. When we fall short.
(God) told me,
My grace is enough; it’s all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness. (2 Cor. 12:9-10, Msg.)
This week, may our religious beliefs be unassuming, but our acts of faith speak for themselves.
Photo Credit: Tim Gouw
M.S. in Marriage and Family Therapy. Earns Crossfit participation trophies. Disaster cook. Enthusiastic wife. #Boymom. Clutches her faith, not her pearls.