Describe a time where you showed how strong you really are

[AnaCarolina7]

For me it was when a student in my precious sons class said he had menningitis.

My son had a 105 fever. I took him to emergency and they did a spinal tap.

He tested negative…but needed fluids.

This mom here only showed same concern of cold symtoms. To him. Meanwile i was a wretch. I was a a gentle rock.

Hes all better of course. But i didnt make him worry then.

 

[drac16]

About a year ago, I got a tattoo. When the tattoo artist was applying it to my body, it hurt a lot. I prayed to the Lord about it; I asked Him to take the pain away. He didn’t take it all away, but He made the pain much more bearable. I’m convinced that I couldn’t have done it without His help.

 

[Tis_Bearself]

When my husband died and I didn’t.

But it’s not about ME being strong. I, me, by myself, can do nothing.

I can only do things through God who strengthens me. It’s all coming from God. None of it is coming from little me.

If I start thinking it’s coming from Me, then like Peter, I will start to sink into the sea. Eyes on Jesus always!

I tried to express this on my social media once and a well-meaning female friend of mine who is not religious and is into “women’s empowerment” tried to tell me not to discount my own strength or empowerment yadayada… she meant well, she is kind, she is the type who gets a group of women (womyn?) around her and they all have some “sisterhood” thang that carries them through stuff like divorces and sudden deaths, but she just doesn’t get it. She’s the type who’d find strength in a whole group of women marching together with P-hats on…just doesn’t get it.

Besides, I’d rather be a bear in the woods with Jesus than have to put up with a crowd of people who all say “If you want to talk…”…that’s just how he made me I reckon.

 

[bluerose]

I think you and I are cut much from the same cloth, Tis_Bearself.

I remember when my husband was undergoing surgery, once on his shoulder and once for a hernia, so nothing really serious, and my husband’s mom wanted to go with me to the hospital. I said no. The rest of the family were aghast. Didn’t I want support? Yes, maybe, but having his mom there meant that if, God forbid, something went wrong, I would be the one having to give HER support. I wanted to focus on my husband, not have to look after mom (she was in her '80s at the time) at the hospital. Too many times I ended up having to be the strong one when I was hurting as badly or worse (like when my dad died… I was “daddy’s girl” but my mother and sister fell completely apart and it was up to me to make arrangements and thank God my husband gave me a shoulder to cry on because I had to hold it together for my mom and sister.)

The time I proved to myself how strong I could be is too personal to relate, but as Tis_Bearself said, it’s not coming from me, it’s not my own strength, it all came from God. Without Him, I never would have made it. And because of Him, I have all the support and strength I need, not just for myself but for others as well.

 

[adamhovey1988]

Know when I realised I needed God?
That time.
I was nineteen years old, had a reaction to medication, that, was ironically supposed to treat depression, and ended up almost dying.
My naturally red skin was about as pasty as someone with my skin colour could possibly be. I vomited gallons of water (this is not hyperbole, I used to drink a lot of water, per the advice of medical experts), and had persistent seizures all day. I should probably point out that I DID go to the hospital.
I am very blessed that, my (at the time) girlfriend was worried about me, and my family cared enough to try to help me.
But, by the grace of God, I lived.
I was AT death’s door.
Now, I didn’t immediately start going to church, that would be a some months later, but, that experience certainly pushed me in that direction.
That is not the first close call I’ve had with death, but I consider it the most important on a personal level.

 

[ZemD]

Having to take care of my newborn in the hospital less than 12 hours after surgery. I rejected the pain medication and just had motrin because I was afraid I would be “high” and unable to stay awake.

My son was born 12/26 and I told myself, “Mary did this thousands of years ago outside in a barn, you can do this in this nice hospital!”