Washing Walls

A few weeks ago, I spent some time with my paternal grandmother. She is a truly amazing woman who has worked hard her whole life. In her eighties now, she bemoans the fact that she can no longer go roller skating or drive. She still volunteers to sleep on the floor whenever there aren't enough beds to go around (yeah, right!). And she constantly tries to help others and not be "burdensome." Somehow she manages to get birthday cards out on time to four children, nineteen grandchildren and twenty-five (ish) great grandchildren. She is incredible!

Being the hardworker that she is, she never really struck me as that happy-go-lucky when I was a child. But as an adult, I've been introduced to the fun and humorous sides of my grandmother that I sometimes overlooked when I was young.

So, as we were cleaning up her house, I started asking her questions about her parenting style. "Did she ever play with her children?" I wondered. "Of course," she responded, "we washed walls together..."

That explains a lot!

Our Weaknesses Can Become Our Strengths

I've been thinking quite a bit about weaknesses and strengths lately. A scripture in the Book of Mormon specifically promises that God can make our weaknesses our strengths. It says, in part, "I give unto men weakness, that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them." I've always thought of this scripture as a transformational one - that is, that God will take our weaknesses and turn them into strengths. In other words, the weakness will disappear, and strength will be left in its place. But recently, I've been thinking that there may be another interpretation. This thought was sparked by two experiences.

First, one of my colleagues is expecting her first child. She is very excited and has gone through a LOT to get to this point. But the pregnancy has been difficult, and she has had moments of severe physical distress. The other day, as she came into the office, she collapsed on the floor. She was having difficulty breathing and had clearly gone through a lot of physical trauma to make it into the office. Tears were glistening in her eyes. She was weak, unable to move. And yet, at that moment, I was amazed by her absolute strength. Her strength of purpose. Her strength of composure, even in the face of this difficult and frightening moment. It was the moment of her greatest weakness that most showcased her greatest strength. Strength and weakness coexisted. The strength, to some extent, was born of her weakness. But it did not replace it.

Second, I was thinking of a friend of mine the other day and immediately sent her an email because I knew that if I didn't do it right at that moment, I would forget about it. As I did so, I realized that my weakness (poor memory) was, in that moment, actually a strength (immediacy of action). Because I know I forget things, I am more likely to act quickly on the little reminders and promptings I feel. The weakness is still there, but it acts as a strength.

So now when I look at the weaknesses in my life and character, I will try to remember that just because there is a weakness, that doesn't mean there isn't also a strength. And most likely, the strength itself is born of the weakness.