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Today stinks.

It’s everyone’s fault and no one’s all at the same time.  I just know my heart hurts, and when I reached into my bag of fake a few hours ago, there were no smiles left to paste on.

Tears came instead. Ugly tears. The kind you go into the shower to hide from everyone who’s trying to deal around you. They’re hurting, too, so there’s really no one to lean on without adding to their burden.

No one but God.

I try to pray, to pour out my burdens to Him, but all that will come is I need you.

I need you. 

His response?  My strength is made perfect in weakness.  A verse I learned as a child.

I’ll admit I’m not instantly comforted.

My tears do not stop.

I do not feel calm.

In fact, my first instinct is to kick back, to list my disappointments and hurts and fears, explaining to God how much it stinks to be a human being.

Jesus comes to mind unbidden, and the tears slow, not because I am overwhelmed by His love for me or because I am any more grateful for the salvation He made possible than I normally am, but because I realize I have nothing on Him.

If what I’m going through is bad, then what He went through was even worse.  I may not be feeling any increased or “perfect” strength at present, but I’m not alone, not even here.

Understanding dawns and dark thoughts scatter, even as my pain stays put.  Maybe there’s more to the verse than I thought.

When we’re convinced we couldn’t feel any worse and curl up within ourselves where no one else can follow only to find Jesus there, seeing, understanding, and agreeing with us that being human stinks sometimes because He’s been there, we’re forced to acknowledge that He is enough.

In moments like these, the strength God displayed in sending Jesus not only to die on the cross, but also to live the same hard life we live so He could show us how to persevere and emerge victorious comes full circle, earning for Him the glory, or recognition, He desires and deserves from us for the provision His strength made possible.  Serving His ultimate purpose, it’s made perfect in weakness, complete.

Smart God. The kind I’m proud to know and call Father.

No arguments left to fling His way, no more yeah, but’s, I have no choice but to settle into His sufficient grace while He works this present junk together for my good.

I’m still not okay. Not like I want to be. My circumstances haven’t changed, but I know God will see me through. In truth, He already has. Because He is strong, so am I.