There are moments in life when strength simply runs out.
Not the kind of strength you use to get through a busy week or solve a problem at work. I mean the deeper strength. The kind you assume will be there when life really falls apart.
Last night, my strength failed.
In the middle of the night, everything changed. My wife needed emergency help. I could do nothing. I knew nothing. I had zero power. I was weak and my strength was gone. In what felt like hours but really was mere minutes strangers in uniforms were filling our home. Lights were flashing outside. Voices were giving instructions. Equipment was being unpacked.
And I stood there.
Helpless.
There was nothing I could fix.
Nothing I could solve.
Nothing I could do.
I couldn’t stop what was happening.
I couldn’t protect her from it.
I couldn’t make it go away.
For someone who spends most of his life trying to help people, it was one of the most powerless moments I’ve ever experienced.
All I could do was trust other people to do their jobs.
And pray.
It’s strange how quickly life exposes our deep seated illusion of control. Most days we operate as if we’re holding everything together. We plan. We organize. We fix. We lead. We manage.
But sometimes life reminds you that you’re not actually the one in control.
Last night reminded me of something I already knew but don’t always feel.
I’m not strong enough for this.
And maybe that’s the point.
The apostle Paul once wrote something that never made much sense to me until moments like this.
“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 of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9 (ESV)
We spend so much time trying to prove we’re strong enough.
Strong enough to lead.
Strong enough to carry responsibility.
Strong enough to handle whatever comes next.
Strong enough to protect our spouse no matter what.
But the truth is, eventually life hands you something that proves otherwise.
And when that moment comes, you discover something surprising.
Faith isn’t about being strong enough.
Faith is about knowing where to lean when you’re not.
That night I leaned on paramedics.
I leaned on doctors.
I leaned on friends who were praying.
But most of all, I leaned on Jesus.
Because when you realize you’re not strong enough, you begin to discover the quiet strength of the One who is.
Today I’m writing this from a place of gratitude.
Grateful for the people who showed up in a moment of crisis.
Grateful for the prayers of friends and family.
Grateful for the reminder that I don’t have to hold everything together.
Grateful that my wife will make a full recovery, even if I will never be the same again.
And most of all, grateful that even on the hardest nights of life, God is still holding us.
Sometimes the most honest prayer you can pray is:
“God, I’m not strong enough for this.”
And the good news of the gospel is that you were never meant to be.
