Drawing Strength Again: When the Promise Becomes Personal

“I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.” — Philippians 4:13 (NIV)

I’ve known this scripture for a long time. I’ve quoted it. Memorized it. Encouraged others with it.

But in this season of grief, I’m realizing something deeper:

knowing God’s promises is different than drawing from them. Right now, I need to draw.

Grief has a way of stripping strength down to its core. Some days, faith isn’t loud or confident; it’s quiet, dependent, and honest. It looks like waking up and saying, “God, I don’t have this today. Please carry me.”

That’s where this verse meets me again; not as a slogan, but as a lifeline.

Fred Hammond’s “Song of Strength” has been echoing in my spirit lately. It reminds me that strength doesn’t mean I’m not hurting. It means I’m still standing because God is holding me up. The song doesn’t deny pain; it declares dependence. I must also admit that my sister Cheryl is one of the reasons why I know about and love the music of Fred Hammond.

And that’s where I am.

Philippians 4:13 doesn’t promise that I’ll feel strong. It promises that strength is supplied.

Strength to breathe.

Strength to grieve.

Strength to keep showing up.

Strength to trust God when my heart feels heavy.

I may not be able to do everything.

But I can do this moment.

I can do today.

I can do the next small step; through Him who gives me strength.

If you’re grieving and feeling depleted, this promise is for you, too.

You don’t have to generate strength.

You’re invited to receive it.

And today, that is enough.