Maybe it’s taken all of my thirty-seven years

and

maybe it’s been a winding road

but

I think

I am

finally

beginning

to

know

me.

I like security.

And

I am guilty

of looking for it

in the arms of my husband

in the balance in my bank account

in the qualities of my friendships.

Over the past several years

these traditional forms of security

have taken a bit of a free fall in my life.

And

I have been forced

to land

square

at the feet of Jesus Himself.

But even after all that falling

and

His gracious picking me back up,

my heart

is still tempted

to jump back to those very familiar forms

of (counterfeit) peace.

So I must do the hard work of

daily (hourly) directing

my heart

my hands

my mind

to

the ultimate

security.

If I pick up a book and the back cover says something like “Smart women leave messy marriages.  They discover their independence.  They refuse to forgive.  They think about themselves first.”

I put it down.

I put it down.

If a song comes on the radio about seeking revenge,

about hurting as you’ve been hurt,

I change that channel.

I play another tune.

If a friend encourages me to disparage my spouse,

to indulge in self-pity,

to decide what the world owes me and to focus on receiving my rightful dues,

I step away from that conversation.

I share my story before a different heart.

The world preaches about strong in ways both large and small.

And the women who seem to embody mainstream strong

are takers, pushers.

I say to that . . .

Don’t talk to me about strength.

I know strength.

And I know

that

strength

looks different

in each body.

And it’s only

lack of experience

that leads us to believe that

one strength must resemble another strength

any more than we should believe that

one woman must resemble another woman.

All kinds of strength keep us strong.

Staying.

Leaving.

Fighting.

Quitting.

And all these years

and all this journey

are showing me

that although

my strength

does not look like

your strength

I am

in fact

still strong.

by Lacey Keigley, So Every Day

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