Strength and Confusion in Weakness

Another day. Yesterday I was bold - I went out, alone, which doesn't happen much anymore. I think one of the hardest things about this whole struggle is the feeling of lost independence, of a new weakness that I always prided myself I didn't have. I want to be independent. I think there is always this image we want others to have of us, regardless of how close it is to reality, that we maybe allow ourselves to believe is true. Mine was of strength and independence. I wanted people to think I was strong. To see me as a picture of faith and feminine strength. That's who I want to be, and that's exactly who I feel that I am not. I am weepy. I am delicate, like a flower, and crush easily. I need people, and I often depend on their strength to carry me. This is not who I want to be. I know there is a certain strength that is implied by someone who admits their own weaknesses and is willing to address them, but I feel like I am somehow beyond that. I feel like everyone looks at me and shakes their heads, wanting to say something to me about what's going on but not wanting me to break and for it to be their responsibility when I become a sniffly mess. I just want to be strong again. I think I was there once, and it's been lost in this crazy maze of darkness and confusion. I asked Scott the other night if he thought I was weak or crazy, and his answer touched me so because I felt like he saw my heart.... He said, "No, I think you're confused. I think you're hearing a lot of different ideas of who you are and you need to pick one and believe it. I think you need someone to help you make that decision." It was so true, so real, and so refreshing. Someone saw me....and as it turned out, he didn't think it was weakness he saw but someone confused and mystified by a choice that we all have to make. He saw me. That was nice, and I think that's a big reason I married him. He gets me. He doesn't ask questions because he doesn't have to. He gets me and loves me the same. That doesn't happen every day.

Unless you count Jesus. He does just that. Why is it so much harder to get that? Why can I adore Scott and be so grateful for the way he loves me and take it for granted that the Lord loves me even more than that? Ugh. Sometimes I cringe at my humanity.