Bravery

When I hear the word brave, a lot of things come to mind. First, I think of my favorite Marvel characters, next my favorite heroines from books,and then I move on to my personal life: family and friends who have made a difference. So when someone asked me to share about myself and being brave, my mind went blank. Me? Brave? Is this some kind of joke? It's the same knee jerk reaction I have when someone uses the word 'strong' to describe me. I'm not strong and I'm certainly not brave. Right? 

There is a verse in the Bible that people love to quote, Philippians 4:13, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." (ESV) The other thing people love to say is, "God won't give you more than you can handle." You are probably wondering why I would bring these up. It's a simple but not so simple answer. My family has gone through a lot of trials in the last four years and that verse and saying were quoted to me many times. Usually out of context which left me with a bad taste in my mouth. People would tell me I was strong and brave because God had given me these trials and therefore I was equipped to handle them. But here is the secret that I learned from these trials: I am none of those things. 

When my two week old son had a seizure and I rode in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and sat in the corner of the ER room alone while he was surrounded by (literally) every doctor and nurse on staff; I did not feel brave or strong. And later that night when a doctor in the PICU gave us his diagnosis of hydrocephalus, I certainly did not feel strong. Later that weekend when we were told he had contracted a virus from me during delivery that was making him so sick he might die... No, I did not feel brave. I felt small. I felt insignificant. I felt alone. I did not feel as if God was being fair and giving me a trial I could endure. 

And therein lays the secret. I alone was not brave nor was I strong. I was not capable of handling this situation. I spent the next twenty one days in the hospital with an infant while my other two little boys were at my parents’ home. I could never have done this without God. Because in my complete and utter weakness, brokenness and cowardice, God showed up and clothed me in new clothes. He replaced my old life with my new life and gave me a shirt of bravery and strength. Now when I'm staring down a list of doctors I need to call, meetings that need to be held at school, and therapies to which I need to take my special needs sons, I know I am not alone and I can have the strength and courage to do it if I only ask. 

So no, I'm not brave and I'm not strong but I have someone on my side who is and gives me his.