The boyfriend tells me that on a regular basis. And while I admittedly roll my eyes at him over it sometimes, it always sticks.
I have had a million reasons lately to be angry, sad, hurt, depressed, and every other synonym that goes with that, but I have chosen to keep my head up.
I remember sitting in my Pastor's office telling him that I was tired of having to be the strong one. That I was terrible at it and I couldn't do it anymore. He began to speak the Word and encourage me and even though I can't remember those exact words, I remember a breath of life coming over me. I felt strong and the thought "I can and will do this" and "I'm not going to let the enemy win" was being repeated in my mind. I almost immediately had the image of myself standing on the top of a mountain overlooking all of these "problems".
Issues had come up that I never thought I would have to deal with and I was ready to face them head on. With love and compassion instead of anger and bitterness. With strength instead of weakness.
I conquered that week and felt like I had sprinted an entire marathon by the end. And when I thought I would finally be able to get some rest, I was smacked in the face with more trials.
My babies came home last weekend and my sweet girl was sick. I wasn't as concerned about her for the first few days other than to keep the normal meds on rotation to try to heal her. My mother had already planned to come over and keep them since she was running a low grade fever. Come Monday morning when my mom called, I had been up all night sick and was absolutely miserable. Because I was the "strong" (and some might argue stubborn) one, I went to work and made it through the day. At the end, I realized I was in bad shape so I took an uninsured trip to the Urgent Care. I was immediately diagnosed with strep.
Great, now how am I going to be strong?
I spent that night and the next in the bed barely moving or speaking. I was being tortured.
My wonderful mother took Sammie to the same doctor the next day only to find out she had double ear infections, strep, and pneumonia. My sweet little girl was more than just sick..she was pitiful. And there was nothing I could do for her. I made the decision in my mind the minute I found out that I would fight even harder to get better. By that night I had made it out of bed and onto the couch to at least socialize and let her know I was here and ok.
I made it back to work the next day, still not feeling fantastic but knowing my job had to be done. After finally getting back into my groove, I got a terrifying phone call from my mom that she was hurting and didn't know what was going on. That was the first time I've ever purposefully hit 95 on my speedometer. Pulling in my drive and having 4 fire trucks and an ambulance sitting there was not an easy thing to deal with, but I knew my babies were inside and I knew I had to keep my head up.
While it turned out to be nothing more than just a scare, it was the final straw for me. I was telling the boyfriend about it over the phone and telling him how tired I was and how I didn't know how much more I could handle. He reminded me that the enemy will always have these tests and trials for me and that the Lord will allow them, but it was up to me and my faith as to how I would react.
So, while I don't think I could handle anymore, I know that my Mighty and Awesome God can and will. And that He will fight for me. That faith in Him alone will help me to always 'keep my head up'.
Bring it..
