We’re Not Strong, We’re Faithful

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26 ESV)

I recently had lunch with a friend who lost her husband to complications of multiple sclerosis last summer. We talked about grief and how she’s learning to navigate life as a widow, finding her new normal. She shared with me that people tell her, “You’re so strong.” Then she rolled her eyes because she knew I could relate.

I, too, have been told, “You’re so strong,” or, “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” too many times to count over the last decade. It baffles me each and every time I hear those well-intentioned words.

If you haven’t experienced a profound loss, I have something to tell you: We’re not strong; we’re faithful.

We are as weak and afraid and heartbroken as you think we should be (probably more), but we keep putting one foot in front of the other each day so we don’t sink into the abyss. We believe God is always watching over us and has our best interests at heart as his children, even when we’re incredibly sad and angry with him and don’t understand his ways.

He is our strength on the best of days and the darkest of days.

I made a six-hour round trip drive by myself one weekend last fall to downtown Houston, where my mother and grandmother were born. During those quiet hours in the car by myself, it finally occurred to me that the pervasive loneliness I always feel in my heart and mind is actually grief.

My mother has been dead for more than five years now. Her absence became my normal long ago.

In fact, her dementia progressed so severely before her passing that I haven’t had a true relationship with my mom in about ten years. The last time she recognized me as her daughter was at the end of 2008, right after we moved her into a nursing home. Her wandering and confusion had become unmanageable at home with my dad still working full-time.

Looking back now, it’s hard to believe I survived the last decade as a motherless daughter. I got married, started a new job, had a miscarriage, moved, and had two babies, all while losing my mom to early onset Alzheimer’s disease. Three years after her death, I lost my grandfather to dementia and began looking after my grandmother’s health as well.

I was filled with despair upon realizing that my role as a dementia caregiver would continue, this time with an immensely more difficult and stubborn family member. My fiercely independent grandmother refused to give up driving and living by herself, despite her doctors’ warnings about increasing memory loss and poor balance. She blamed me for every inconvenience she faced, frequently hung up on me when I called, and even threatened to sue me in her frustration.

I was ready to throw in the towel and let someone else take responsibility for her, but God had other plans. When I least expected it, my grandmother told me she wanted to move into an assisted living and memory care facility near my home. Her decision was the best possible answer to my prayers.

But strength wasn’t what kept me going through that year-long process; it was faith. It was my belief that God is bigger and better than my pain. I never lost hope in his infinite power. I never lost hope in his endless grace, love, and kindness.

Nothing is too broken for his redemption, not even death. He will heal every wound and dry every tear if we simply believe in his goodness and mercy and accept his salvation.

Christ died to change the story. He flipped the script from human tragedy to God’s glory.

 Dear Father, please fortify our faith in you. Help us to see your mercy and kindness in each new day despite our earthly circumstances and grief. Please comfort us in our sadness, doubt, and anger. We know that you see our pain and have a perfect plan to redeem it for your glory. Amen.

Scripture for Reflection

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep. (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14 ESV)

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4 ESV)

Reach for More

Whether or not you are facing tremendous grief, how can you embrace God’s gift of hope today? How can you be faithful despite difficult circumstances and show others his goodness?

Lauren Flake writes about her journey as a wife, mom to two little girls and Alzheimer’s daughter in her native Austin, Texas, at For the Love of Dixie. Her first book, Where Did My Sweet Grandma Go? was published in 2016. She thrives on green tea, Tex-Mex, and all things turquoise.

Photograph © Al Soot, used with permission