Strength Doesn’t Begin with Me

In those early days of grief, there were always three little sets of eyes on me, observing the path their momma was choosing through the sorrow. My living children weren’t quite old enough to comprehend the loss that our family had endured. Death was a concept that their then two, three, and four-year-old minds did not fully understand. All they knew was that the baby in mommy’s tummy was somehow no longer there and now everybody felt sad.

I wanted my children to see me grieve well, but I didn’t know how to accomplish that. What did it look like to grieve deeply—in such a way that would validate the tremendous value of the life that was lost and the depth of our love—without being overcome by it? I tried my best to be strong for them, but I quickly realized that I could not do it on my own. My grief-stricken heart was prone to stumble and fail.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might.” Ephesians 6:10

The strength I was so desperate for could not be achieved or attained by my own efforts; it didn’t begin with me. If I wanted to grieve well, I had to look outside of myself. In fact, I only began experiencing true strength when I finally gave up relying on my own—realizing that apart from Christ, I could do nothing (John 15:5). I didn’t need more of me, I needed more of God. My strength was found by depending on His.

But what does it look like to depend on the strength of another? How do we tap into the strength of the Lord’s might?

In the midst of my grief, I came upon I verse that I had read dozens of times, but suddenly took on a deeper meaning in my heart. When the Israelites had returned to Jerusalem after having been exiled, Nehemiah the governor, Ezra the priest, and the Levites who taught the people reminded them that “the joy of the Lord [was their] strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). As I read these words, the Spirit gently reminded my grieving heart, that the way to access God’s strength was to dwell in His joy.

It seems counterintuitive at first glance. How could I be expected to dwell in the joy of the Lord in the midst of such heart-wrenching sorrow? Surely such deep sorrow could not coexist with a joy that strengthens both body and soul. And yet, further examination of God’s Word teaches us otherwise. Paul shows us that because of the hope we have in Christ, we truly can be “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing” (2 Corinthians 6:10).

“Through [Christ] we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” Romans 5:2

This is our hope. We have obtained access to God Himself through Christ. His death on the cross has vanquished death, and through faith in Him we are brought into a restored relationship with the Father. The victory has already been won. Every tear will one day be wiped away. The sorrow we endure is not the final chapter. Our circumstances, no matter how devastating they are, cannot diminish the great hope that has been offered to us.

As I continued to set my heart on the hope of Christ, my soul rejoiced. And as that joy became more firmly rooted in my life, I found the strength to grieve well—to grieve in a way that pointed my children to the cross and to true hope. That did not mean that I grieved less. I was simply strengthen to grieve with hope.

Dear one, do you long to be strengthened through the sorrow? Turn your eyes towards the greatness and glory that awaits all those who are in Christ. Rejoice in the hope you have been given—life forevermore in the presence of the Lord! As you choose to delight in all that He is and all that He has done, treasuring Him above all else and abiding in Him, this joy will be your strength.

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