Weakness
Paradox of Strength
What does it mean to be strong? Is it ever better to be weak? Is there some form of strength in weakness? Is there some level of weakness in being strong? I explore the paradoxes of strength and weakness in this issue of Mystery’s Voice.
My Mysterious Mind
How do I write about strength from a place of depletion? My “batteries” were dangerously low days ago when I wrote about peace. Then my batteries were depleted by the roller coaster of our dog Ollie’s miracle and subsequent care. Add in several professional shifts and challenges, and by mid-week I was succumbing to a respiratory illness. Paradoxically, I had decided my next issue would be about strength.
My prayer for Ollie the first night after his surgery was to keep his heart strong. When I wrote the last issue about peace, he was still alive and in the emergency hospital. Two days later we picked him up to transfer his care to our home. He walked to us on wobbly legs, unsteady but very much alive. I dropped to the floor beside him and said, “You did it, buddy!” The vet and technicians at the hospital had named him Miracle Dog. His regular vet concurred with that name, having been certain Ollie would not recover.
It turns out miracles are still possible but they are expensive, not just in dollars but also in energy and time. Each day Ollie has required special care; each day he rewards us with a bit more miraculous progress. One week after his near-death experience during surgery, he was able to walk up and down the stairs in our home. This is a big deal because he experienced neurological damage from the code during surgery. His recovery is very much like that of a stroke victim.
This experience has reminded me how helpless I am. I can pray and ask others for prayers. I can provide extra care. But I cannot bring life or healing. I wanted to write to you about strength. Instead, I have been feeling very weak. My heart has been zipping up and down from grief to elation, then trudging each day with guarded hope for a continued recovery. My mind is exhausted from disrupted sleep for dog care, combined with processing huge shifts on the professional horizon. My spirit has searched to understand how such weakness can be good, how such depletion can be useful.
Thus, instead of writing about strength I decided to write about weakness and hope to find its paradoxical source of strength.
Message of Mystery Acres
I wanted to write about strength because I am impressed with the trees, especially during storms. They bend and sway when storms come, sacrificing a few limbs, but not themselves. When the mighty winds come it almost looks as though the trees are dancing, maybe even praising the bringer of the storm. They lift their branches to receive the rains because what they need only comes through storms. Sunshine is needed, but without storms, the trees would wither and die.
How do storms bring what I need? Each storm brings something. The forest needs the storms, longs for them. We don’t. We want only sunshine, only summer time. But the forest needs all of the seasons, including seasons of storms, in order to thrive.
As do we. In ways we cannot understand, out spirits would not thrive in summer alone. I don’t know how this works, only that it must be true. The loving creator brings storms into the lives of the forest for the good of the trees. My loving creator brings storms into my life and the lives of those I love. These storms work according to His good purposes for us.
The trees bend to the might of the storms. This weakness is a form of surrendered strength. How is my weakness an expression of strength? When I admit I am not OK this admission of weakness is an act of strength. I am depleted. I cannot make it on my own. I don’t have what I need.
For this issue I chose a picture of one of the marker trees from Mystery Acres. This mighty oak was tethered as a young sapling to point in a desired direction. The original trunk is gone; what towers above from the twisted trunk is a branch that grew strong and straight to allow the tree to grab sunlight from above. The voice of this tree is a mystery to me, but an expert told me she looks towards a village. Using my compass, she points due east, a preferred direction of the Osage people who probably shaped her. Her convoluted form spared her from loggers, uninterested in her crooked trunk. She strongly stands, having long ago recovered from the injuries that weakened her growth. I call her Grandmother. She stands as a testimony to strength from weakness.
Ancient Mystery’s Voice
“He increases the power of the weak.” (see Isaiah 40:29)
I’ve been thinking about batteries, particularly depleted ones in need of recharging. Only a depleted battery can be recharged; a fully-charged battery cannot receive any additional charge. If a battery is strong on its own, no recharging is necessary.
A weak battery can receive power from the recharging process; a strong battery cannot. To use this as a metaphor, the strong in themselves don’t need to receive power from another source. Only those weak in themselves can receive power from outside themselves.
The ancient text of Isaiah was written about 700 B.C. The Dead Sea Scrolls included portions of various ancient texts but only one complete book was found; the 66-chapter book of Isaiah was the premier find in the arid caves. That early copy aligned perfectly with other, modern copies, which had been transcribed repeatedly across centuries, long before the printing press.
Within the 40th chapter of the book of Isaiah is a popular passage found in verses 29 through 30. Here, Isaiah wrote about weakness, weariness, and fatigue. His ancient words of encouragement are to look to the everlasting God for strength and power. Isaiah declared that God will give strength to the weary and increase the power of the weak. To receive this recharging, Isaiah recommended the weary “hope in the Lord.” With renewed energy, they will be able to “soar on wings like eagles, run and not grow weary, and walk and not be faint.”
Ancient Mystery’s voice calls to the weary, whose batteries are depleted, and cries, “put your hope in the Lord.” The recharging that is available will not only restore what was depleted but provide extraordinary power. Once trudging through one’s difficulties, the recharged is able to rise above their problems, almost as though in flight. The overwhelming “to do” list is then conquered step by step, with a strong supply of energy.
Living in Mystery
I wanted to write to you about being strong. I like being strong. Who doesn’t?
Instead, this broken oracle delivers a message of weakness. I confess to not being very good at being weak. I don’t like it. I’m not sure if that makes me unqualified to advise on the subject, or the perfect person to explain its merits, having such a lack of them myself.
During an interview recently I shared honestly about some recent disappointments and struggles. The response was to thank me for my vulnerability. Yeah, I don’t get that very often. Being vulnerable requires a strength I don’t often have.
Weakness as a paradoxical way to be strong is a mystery. Vulnerability is a source of connection between people, like glue. Being weak signals help and support from others. Strength puts up barriers, or, more like un-scalable pillars. The strong reach down from a lonely pillar to help the weak. To be strong is to be alone; to be weak is to be with others. And, as the old saying goes, there is strength in numbers. We are stronger together than we are alone.
As an old mom to young parents, you have no doubt observed the benefit of a child being broken when confronted with inappropriate behavior. Strong-willed children can be more difficult to discipline, as their strength can be an impediment to learning compliance. Strength, in this case, is a weakness, and weakness is the better posture.
When we offer encouragement to each other we might say, “Be strong.” It would be very strange to say, “Be weak.” Perhaps a better contrast would be to differentiate between being independent and interdependent, or between self-sufficient and able to receive help from others. Most Americans come from fiercely self-reliant ancestry, those who left behind their homeland and extended family, venturing by ship and covered wagon, into unknown territory.
I get it. I am much more comfortable managing on my own, finding my own way through tough times, reaching into my own reserves for another ounce of strength. But there’s weakness in that kind of strength, and there’s strength in some forms of weakness. There’s strength in the paradoxical form of weakness that asks for help. Those who ask for help will know the joy of receiving from others.
And, taking this to the spiritual plane, those who ask for help from the Infinite source of help, the one who created all things, those are the ones who will know a profound joy. At this point in Ollie’s recovery, my husband and I reached a very hard place earlier today. After living for eight days in the specter of his loss, watching him grow stronger each day, we took him to the vet because he wouldn’t eat breakfast this morning. After doing so well yesterday, today’s decision was between surgery and euthanasia. Eight days ago, during surgery, his heart stopped. How could we put him through another surgery? After eight days of miraculous improvement, how could we euthanize him? No good choices.
He has been living in a miracle this week, but even miracles can have expiration dates. Perhaps Ollie will reach that expiration date during surgery, or maybe he will reach it in a day or two, but we couldn’t be the ones to sign off on the expiration date of his miracle. We didn’t have the strength for that. We made the weaker choice. He’s having surgery again.
Whatever the outcome, I trust there is good in it. This past week has been bonus time we thought we wouldn’t have. Maybe there’s more time for us with him. Maybe his miracle expires tonight during surgery.
Living in the mysterious strength of weakness is hard. Loving someone makes us vulnerable to the pain of losing them, or of hurting when they hurt. Being strong and alone is easier. But being weak and with others is better.
Connecting with Mystery
Dear Lord of All Mystery, I am weaker than I want to admit. I am more helpless and vulnerable than I want others to know. Even in the presence of Your might and abundance, I often choose my own limited strength and meager supply. Help me to have the courage to be weak, allowing Your strength to be my supply. Help me to live more honestly with those who love me, showing my need and pain to them. Thank You for teaching me how to live in the strength of weakness. Amen.
Notes from Dr. Mac
If you want to do your own investigation of any of the scriptures I use, I suggest you go to Bible Gateway. This free online version of the Bible allows a search of words or phrases in different translations.
You can find previous posts of The Adventure of Reflection at ARCHIVE. You can find the first 64 issues in an organized compilation at Reflective Adventures: Volume One in the “My Books” of my Substack.
You can let me know your thoughts by leaving a comment, by emailing me at: Dear Dr. Mac ,or through the Substack App. I love to hear from you!
