I was recently texting with a friend.  In the midst of some casual back and forth he posed an interesting, and as he described it, “random reflection”.  He asked, “isn’t it flummoxing how humans can be so strong in some way and yet so fragile in others?”  Given that I missed a couple of days of my own Lenten Challenge, I thought this particularly inspiring as a way to get back on track.

We tend to honor strength and turn away from fragility.  But why is that?  I think that in some ways we are worried that recognizing weakness in others will cause us to recognize our own weakness.  I know that I have often felt that being strong is the way I am supposed to be.  I have become strong in hiding my own fragility—even to the point of being able to avoid shedding tears at my great-aunt’s funeral.

Yet for all his strength, even Jesus showed his own fragility.  He begged his disciples to keep him company the night before he was arrested.  And at the time of death, he cried out asking why he had been forsaken.  While fully divine, Jesus showed that there is nothing to be ashamed about in also being fully human.  One of the most famous (and shortest) verses in the New Testament showed Jesus’ willingness to be fragile upon learning of the death of his friend Lazarus.  Jesus’ ability to cry isn’t something to pass over—it should be celebrated.

Avoiding emotion and shying away from fragility only results in dulling my own ability to connect with others who are struggling—empathy must come from an ability to be sympathetic towards myself.  One of the wisest pieces of advice I was ever given was to be kind to myself when I was feeling particularly anxious.  But to do that, I need to be able to admit that I am feeling anxious and that means admitting that I am fragile.

The interesting thing is that fragility doesn’t negate strength, it actually engenders it.  When I can acknowledge that I don’t have it all together I allow myself to being supported by those around me.  And when I draw from the strengths of friends and family I am in turn made stronger.  The path to strength comes from a willingness to see just how fragile I am at times.

At the end of the day, the perplexing thing isn’t that fragility and strength exists in the same person—the perplexing thing is that we aren’t willing to celebrate moments of both strength and weakness.  When we are strong, we can impact those around us—but when we are fragile we allow others to impact us. In doing so, we open ourselves up to doing more together than we could ever do alone.