For When I Am Weak

 “I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 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 about my weaknesses…for when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:7b-10b, NIV).

I didn’t really understand these Scriptures until today. I’m an 8 on the enneagram, and if you know anything about 8s, you know that weakness…well, it’s not really our jam. As a matter of fact, the 8 that is writing this will do everything in her power to avoid weakness, to avoid vulnerability, and to avoid anything that could force me to lose control over myself. 

You may be thinking, “But Taylor, what about this blog?” Yeah, sometimes I can be vulnerable on here - but it’s a hell of a lot easier behind a screen than face to face, especially when it’s with someone I trust. In my 8ness, I’ve convinced myself that vulnerability = weakness…until I read a section in The Road Back to You. The author wrote, 

    “Living behind a facade of bluster and toughness to mask one’s fear of emotional harm is cowardly, not courageous. Risking vulnerability and love is what takes courage,” (60, emphasis added). 

I couldn’t help but be drawn back to Paul’s words in his letter to the Corinthians, and as I pondered them in my prayer time this morning, this is what I journaled to God: 

“Here’s the thing, God. I’ve never really understood this Scripture. It was one of those that I thought was [probably] impactful, but I never grasped the meaning. And I don’t know, this probably isn’t relevant to the context or maybe not even what Paul meant to convey to this church, but I think I can see what it means in my life. Maybe the thorn in my side is the fear of vulnerability. Maybe it’s the Voice of Satan in my head that says, 

    “If you open up, if you let them in, they will see your weakness. They will pounce, take advantage, and you will be left bleeding and alone all over again.” 

And I beg, and I plead, 

    “God, save me! Take this thorn! Stop and silence the Voice!” 

But instead, You tell me: 

    “My Grace is sufficient for you, Taylor. My power is made perfect in what Satan has convinced you is weakness. So, sweet Daughter, I implore you - see it for what it is. This is My power in you. This is your Voice. It’s not weakness, it’s strength. I have sent you on a mission, the Great Mission, to use your Voice. Taylor, My Spirit is upon you! I have anointed you to proclaim good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom for the prisoner, and, through My power, to set the oppressed free.” 

And I continue to pray: 

    “My weakness can do that, God? Are you sure? Because I am afraid for so many reasons.” 

And You reply, 

    “Surely I am with you, Taylor, until the very end of the age.” 

For so long I’ve internalized that message that vulnerability will cost me everything; and to be fair, it has cost me a lot in the past. I was forced out of my first college, and I faced a lot of emotional abuse at my second. I lost friends I loved and I even lost the respect of some family members.

There have been many times I have written that I will “be vulnerable” in this blog, but the truth is that I share what I feel safe sharing. And I do it with a facade of strength; I do it pretending I have healed from everything that has happened to me, because the raw truth feels so much more shameful - that I still struggle as much as I did when the abuse ended. 

I don’t want to let anyone see the inner child in me, because what if that sweet child is why I lost my purity, my innocence, my positivity; what if she is why the light inside of me faded and turned to fear? And so I turned my fear into an impenetrable steel wall, ten thousand feet wide and a thousand feet high. The internal struggle is nearly unbearable.

Samwise the Brave says it better than I ever could:

    “I know, it’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are here. It’s like in the great stories, the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end - because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come, and when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think I do understand, I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. They didn’t, because they were holding onto something - that there’s some good left in this world, and it’s worth fighting for” (Film adaptation of The Two Towers). 

I can never fulfill what my 8 has been anointed to do if I don’t see my “weakness” as “strength.” The darkness will never pass. I can’t turn back, even when I’m given the chance. I have to fight, because my Call is worth fighting for. Building those walls is not courageous, it is cowardly. So I’ll do my best not to pretend anymore, and I’ll do my best to let those walls down and let people in. Instead,

“I will throw off everything that hinders me, and I will run with perseverance the race marked out for me, fixing my eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. And I will consider Him who endured such opposition, so that I will not grow weary and lose heart” (Hebrews 12:1-3, NIV, emphasis added).