“For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians, 12:10

This “holy irony” may not be as shocking as “the poor inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven” or Our Lord’s invitation to share in a cross which He said, “is easy and its burden light.” But the concept of weakness bearing strength is more than a theory or irony and continues to stand the test of time.

Some of the strongest people I know are those who wrap their arms around some of life’s weakest, most vulnerable moments. I’d like to tell you their stories, for they are the stories of ordinary women living out extraordinary strength by the nature of their call.

A woman’s strength looks like my childhood neighbor named Cathy who watched my siblings and me play outside each afternoon from her big kitchen window. To me, Cathy was the “crazy sock lady” who wore a colorful scarf around her bald head. She let us swim in her pool, feed her dogs, and take care of her plants when she went on vacation. Cathy always returned the stray foam arrows that somehow escaped into her yard from my brother’s little bow. She laughed and waved to us as if she had a special place in this world – until one day, she simply left it in a silent, peaceful sleep. Her heart won every day that her body lost to cancer.

A woman’s strength looks like a mother I know, who once lifted the blanket from her newborn daughter’s carseat one last time before handing her over to her adoptive parents. The letter accompanying the baby explained it all – her love, faith, and the importance of the adoptive parents in her newborn life. It would be 31 years until this mother would see her daughter’s beautiful face again in a triumphant reunion.

A woman’s strength looks like a young bride from Indiana I learned about last year who called off her wedding a week before she was supposed to walk down the aisle. In the midst of her loss and pain she had the strength to turn her own marriage feast into a marriage feast for the hungry. This woman invited 150 homeless from the community to her wedding reception – attending the event herself and making sure they were served as her wedding guests.

These women live, without a doubt, unshakable strength, rising above fear, loss, comparison, and grief in challenging times. And they do so silently, unaware that they are exercising their heart and growing it’s capacity to endure. I am convinced that their superhuman strength comes from the weight of their love.

A woman can and should claim for herself the chief place in love.* This means that she governs, rules, and reigns in all things relating to the heart, which is in and of itself the very core of our human existence. A woman’s “weakness” comes from her ability to be to be vulnerable, which sometimes means getting hurt.  And what we see in the examples above are women who, without knowing it, have mastered the art of bearing and healing of wounds. It is because they love that they are wounded. And because they love – that they rise beyond the wound to a summit of strength.

Perhaps, in a work of perfect irony, they capture the essence of what it means to be a woman, who, when she is her weakest, is her strongest!

The women mentioned above are not unique to their sex. Far from it! They follow a long line of feminine force before them – from Esther and Judith to St. Joan of Arc and Mother Teresa. And Mary! It is the Blessed Mother’s supernatural mission that glorifies the strength of the “weaker sex,” standing firm at the side of her Son, at the foot of the cross, and in the glory of the resurrection. It is this figure of womanhood that glorifies weakness, prompting us to see the irony and consider her the “strongest sex.” (When I am weak, I am strong…)

Our culture is in a coma of denial and lies where the dignity of true womanhood is concerned. We’ve been given 50 shades of grey to define a lifeless face of femininity. The woman’s strengths are being redefined as weakness while her weaknesses are being hailed as strengths. We have to dig hard to find that heart, where suffering and love thrive and grow into something mysteriously “more.”

As women, what if we were to dig back into the holy irony of superhuman strength in weakness? What if we resolve to commit our lives to rule radically from the heart? What if we embrace the cross when it comes instead of trying to fix, fashion, or forge a new one? We could, no doubt find an awakening from this coma. We could enjoy new life pumping strength, joy, and resiliency throughout nations. 

You are that woman. You carry a burden that no one else knows to the same extent that you do. The very burden that seems to weigh you down at times is actually your secret strength! In the bearing of the weight, you are exercising the biggest muscles in your heart and capacity to love. In the mystery of your weakness, you are building strength that will minister to you, your family, and your community. Allow yourself the chance to take risk in loving, in good times and in the not-so-good times.

Dear sisters, will you join me in a mission of embracing our “weakness” in order to build strength? To own our unique and beautiful hearts that, no matter what comes, cannot be destroyed.

Let’s be okay with not being okay sometimes – mourn when we are called to mourn – cry when we are called to cry.  Every day, we can practice in the “weight-room” of virtue, building the muscles of generosity, the endurance of chastity, and the glow of perseverance. We can witness a bold surrender to God and trust in His providence, stretching out our whole hearts to the people we love and serve.  In this, we can and will truly reclaim our chief place as love.

Yours, Mary

*Casti Cannubi, Pope Piux XI