"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!"
Right... Sure, ok...
Last time I checked what doesn't kill you simply leaves you for dead. It makes sense right? This awful terrible thing that brought you to the edge of your patience, your tolerance, your ability- suddenly it turns and brings you to the opposite side of the spectrum giving you a strength you've never seen, let alone experienced, before. Because that happens.
No no, that terrible thing that stopped just shy of pushing you off the cliff and into destruction? It left you there, right on the edge of the cliff, waiting for you to wake up and groan in pain as you try to move. It's waiting for you to roll yourself off that cliff. Sounds much more in character of something that would bring you to the brink of death anyway.
So what's a gal to do? If I move, surely I'll bring on my own destruction in a desparate attempt to save myself. It looks like my only option is to give up- to lie there on the edge of that cliff but put on my brave face for the rest of the world as I repeat "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" like a broken record.
But Praise the Lord! I have a Savior who picks me up from His own strength and shows me the beauty of what could have easily been my own destruction had He not rescued me and lent me His own strengths.
Many people have told me over the past two and half years of my illness that they admire my strength. Many people have told me I'm one of the strongest people they know. Some people have even walked on eggshells around me so as to not give me anything else to deal with.
And I appreciate it all, I truly do. But I'm not any stronger than you, and I have no more in my life to deal with than you. Everyone faces battles everyday, whether they be private or public. Everyone makes life-altering choices everyday, whether they be private or public.
But my illness has not made me stronger. Not in the least, sweetheart. And I'm really tired of giving credit to the illness that drags me to the edge of the cliff instead of to the Savior who rescues me!
Vasovagal syncope has not made me stronger.
Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome has not made me stronger.
Psychogenic NonEpileptic Seizures have not made me stronger.
Christ has made me stronger by lending me His own strength.
So what's a gal to do? If I move, surely I'll bring on my own destruction in a desparate attempt to save myself. It looks like my only option is to give up- to lie there on the edge of that cliff but put on my brave face for the rest of the world as I repeat "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" like a broken record.
But Praise the Lord! I have a Savior who picks me up from His own strength and shows me the beauty of what could have easily been my own destruction had He not rescued me and lent me His own strengths.
2 Corinthians 12:5-10
5 On behalf of this man I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses. 6 Though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth. But I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. 7 So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations,a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. 9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Many people have told me over the past two and half years of my illness that they admire my strength. Many people have told me I'm one of the strongest people they know. Some people have even walked on eggshells around me so as to not give me anything else to deal with.
And I appreciate it all, I truly do. But I'm not any stronger than you, and I have no more in my life to deal with than you. Everyone faces battles everyday, whether they be private or public. Everyone makes life-altering choices everyday, whether they be private or public.
But my illness has not made me stronger. Not in the least, sweetheart. And I'm really tired of giving credit to the illness that drags me to the edge of the cliff instead of to the Savior who rescues me!
Vasovagal syncope has not made me stronger.
Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome has not made me stronger.
Psychogenic NonEpileptic Seizures have not made me stronger.
Christ has made me stronger by lending me His own strength.
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