“pain is weakness leaving your body”
My son, who I must proudly say, is a linebacker. A big ole, muscle-bound, eating all the damn time, linebacker. He used to hate putting in the work that was required of someone in that role; now, he relishes it. I get a daily report on what he benches, how he and his fellow high school football playing peers deal with the exhausting rituals that “Coach” puts them through, and most of all, how the muscles in his calves, arms, and shoulders are things of beauty. My baby isn’t a baby anymore…but that is not what this is about.
Today, while we were walking back to the car after picking up our Thursday night dinner of Chipotle burrito bowls, he looked at me over the hood of the car and said, “Pain is weakness leaving your body.” Mind you, the conversation we were having during our walk back to the car had nothing to do with his assertion. It came out of the blue, and despite his statement’s out of the blue origin, I smiled and nodded in agreement. We got in the car and headed home, with him bantering on about Coach scheduling two-a-days during the summer, and me half listening, half thinking. The Boy’s statement, “Pain is weakness leaving your body” rang so true with me and hit me square in that place where I needed it most: my spirit.
My spirit and soul have been in pain, for a good chunk of time now. When I woke up today, however, that pain felt different. It was still there, lingering, but it wasn’t stifling me to the point of losing my breath as it had just yesterday. The pain still clung to me, but it didn’t weigh me down, and I felt almost light, lighter than I’ve felt in months. The pain still followed me to work and still threatened to bring me down into the darkness I’ve been in recently, but today, I felt strong enough to fight back…strong enough to overcome.
So when my son said those words to me in the parking lot of the Chipotle today, I smiled. Because I knew that those words were meant for me. I knew those words were God’s message to me to keep my head up and look forward. The pain will be gone soon, and while it dawdles about, still hanging around, still attacking me, I think I know now that it is simply fighting because it knows its time is near. And in its wake will be a stronger, better me.
I love that.
Je crois que,
~ Marva
p.s. A special thanks to my SisterFriends who love me, pray for me, and keep my head on straight. I love y’all!
