Eternally Faithful

Hey!  Look what I found in my blog "draft" folder!  It's a rare find to see something that didn't actually get posted at the original writing, but I'll take it!  I need a good back-in-the-saddle blog anyway...

A while ago, a friend posted a "member that time" about how over the course of a week, she beat all the guys in her homeroom in an arm-wrestling contest and that reminded me of myself...

I grew up a die-hard tomboy. Oh sure, I liked wearing dresses and tights, but I'm pretty sure that every single pair of tights I ever wore to school came home with holes on the knees that miraculously appeared because I certainly wasn't about to admit that I had ruined another pair.

Even now, I cringe at the idea of a tea-party themed women's retreat and "girls night out" where we paint our nails and do face masks.

Sorry girls, I think I'm sitting this one out.

I'm competitive, driven, and love a challenge. When I did a semester of the Army ROTC, my favorite part was the drills and obstacle courses we had to complete. Cross a wide stream using a rope tied between two trees while toting a large gun? Drop to the ground and army crawl through mud? No problem. It's one of the reasons I love bootcamp; it's hard, it sucks, it's challenging in ways you hadn't thought about before, and it's my own daily competition. Granted, that's also the reason why I hate it; I'm not top dog in there. But it keeps me coming back and pushing hard because once in a while, I do win.

But this attitude has a big downside; I refuse to let anyone think I can't handle something on my own; I'm fiercely independent. I can do it. I'll carry the heaviest box just to prove to you that I am not frail.

(Case in point, I was helping Paige and Todd move and picked up a heavy box. Todd offered to help and I told him, "I've got this! I do bootcamp!" to which he replied, "Yeah, but you'll never be a man!")

I have such a hard time submitting to the assistance of others and their help; it feels like admitting defeat. If I accept help, I'm admitting I'm not good enough, I've failed. In reality, it's not nearly that dramatic. But try telling my heart or mind that.

So when I get to a point in life where my burdens are just too heavy and I can't take another step, I'm forced into that position where I have to admit defeat and accept the assistance of the One who can carry it all, always. It hurts so much to say yes to His assistance, initially. But He lifts my burdens with ease and I don't feel shameful and embarrassed at my lack of strength. He knows I can't handle it all, He's always known. Deep inside, I do too. But each time I insist I can handle it on my own again, He lets go with sad eyes, knowing that He'll have to pick me back up in a short time.

Why don't I let Him carry my burden all the time? What do I have to prove to Him? I know He's not impressed by my selfish and prideful attitude of independence and He delights when I lean on Him, and honestly, I do too. My strength will never be enough, not even close. And when I rely on Him, life is better. Not less hard, but the burden is not mine to carry. He provides me peace during those periods of turmoil and pain.  I know He's capable and willing; He's proven that time and time again.  He's eternally faithful to carry me through all matters of life; all that He requires is my trust.