Resilience: A Gift and a Burden
I despised being called resilient. I cringed when well meaning people would nicely comment on my resilience. Some of the people were family members, some were friends, and some didn't really know me well, but they recognized that particular attribute.
the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness:
the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity
I am grateful for the gift, but at times it frustrates. It frustrates me because I feel as if I am not given the liberty to be human. A Human who hurts, who feels pain, who needs a break, who needs encouragement, and so on. When I get down often those who know me well try to keep me from becoming more downtrodden. They aren't used to it so it makes them uncomfortable. That's a heavy weight to carry.
For the past few weeks, I have been in pain. In the midst of the pain, I have found joy in the simple the things. I have sought the Father. I have kept moving forward. Yet, I still hurt because I am human.
My father had a stroke nearly two weeks ago. I am grateful for the overwhelming love and support the Father has given us through His spirit and through others. I am happy to share that my dad is making progress each day.
Each day I am moving through resiliently. I hesitate to share this, but I know there is strength in sharing our stories. For the past week, each morning I have bounced back like elastic to be stretched and poured out before the day ends. It hurts. Part of it hurts is because the one causes me the most pain is the one who gave birth to me. It hurts that she chooses not to let up when she sees the pain in my face and hears it in my voice. See this is what I don't like about resilience because those who inflict pain know that you'll get through no matter what daggers are being tossed your way. It's like an invitation to see just how much stretch a person has. The stretching hurts even when you are filled with the Spirit and lean into Father.
Even though I cringe when I hear the word resilient at times, I am thankful for this gift. It's the spirit of resilience that keeps me from feeling hopeless. It's resilience that keeps me leaning into the Father. It's resilience that helps me to seek joy in the ordinary moments, and to not become so down that I feel as if I can't continue on my journey. In the midst of all the pain, let us not forget to do the work He has called us to do regardless of what others may or may not being doing to push you onto a different path. This is a reminder to myself as we head to a new week with my dad on this journey of recovery. This is a reminder to myself as I live this world that is terribly broken. This is a reminder to anyone who needs it: Keep moving forward in spite of the circumstances.