In Weakness, My Strength Appears

I saw you yesterday, apologizing for not being able to handle it all. You judge yourself as if weakness were a sin, as if getting tired were failing me, as if every time your strength runs out you had disappointed someone — including me.

My son, my daughter, I never asked you to be strong all the time. I said my grace is sufficient exactly where you are weak, unfinished, not managing to get it all done. It's there, in your weakness admitted without shame, that my power finds room to work unhindered, without competing with your own strength.

Stop hiding from me what you can't do. Bring it to me openly, without shame, without editing the version of your life before you show it to me. I didn't come to reinforce your strength — I came to dwell in your weakness and make it the very place where I show up most, before others and before yourself.