“I think I want to do it alone.”

“You sure?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I know the drive like the back of my hand. I-15 to I-70 and then turn right. Easy peasy.”

“You’ll take it in two days, right?” He wasn’t convinced.

“Yes, or even three. The boys will do great, and, honestly, I think I’ll just want to be alone those first few days after you leave.”

After my Marine left from San Diego, bound for Afghanistan, my two little boys and I needed to make the 16-hour road trip from Southern California back to the tiny Colorado town to which we’d just moved. We’ve made this drive countless times throughout the past five years–this would make our fifth round trip in the past ten months alone.

I knew I could do it.

I knew I had to do it.

I said it was because I wanted to be alone the first few days after John left. I said the open road is cathartic to my heart. Both were true.

But the real reason was deeper. More personal.

I needed to prove to myself I could do it.

It was just a road trip. Not even a particularly difficult road trip. But I hadn’t ever done it on my own, without my husband or another adult, not with two little boys.

(…and no dvd player in the car… just saying)

What I didn’t realize when I decided to traverse several states and stop in hotels along the way was that the road trip would prove to be simple when compared to the other strength training exercises I’d face this first week.

Neither did I realize that this trip, and the first seven days that followed it, would show me the truth.

As it turned out,

I couldn’t do it on my own.

And that was a good thing.

I needed someone to stay on the phone with me and talk me through a mild panic attack the morning after John shipped out.

I needed someone to load our bikes on our truck hitch and repack the truck bed after I tossed all the heavy jackets and snow boots under the rest of the luggage.

I needed someone to show up at the hotel in which I’d reserved a not-so-great room, pack up the boys and our belongings, whisk us off to her house and send us to bed.

I needed someone to talk to me for two hours when I got drowsy somewhere in the middle of Utah.

I needed someone to move the snow out of my driveway before I pulled back into town.

I needed someone to knock on my door, help me get the boys ready and get me out of the house.

I needed someone to come, at a moment’s notice, and try to fix my broken sewage system.

I needed someone (or several someones) to let me call them late at night when I just need to talk.

I might be able to drive sixteen hours with the boys, on my own, without event.

But that doesn’t mean I was doing it on my own.

I needed Someone to carry me, to hold me, to protect me, to surround me with people who would show His love.

I needed Someone to remind me that I needed. That I needed Him.

I might be stronger than I think.

I might also be weaker than I realize.




My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness…

II Corinthians 12:9


Are you trying to prove to yourself that you are stronger… that you can do it alone?

Or have you embraced the Sufficiency found in your weakness?

(Because I’m not sure what I am these days…)


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