They reveal that I am unqualified to handle the problems of life on my own. That I lack understanding. That I am weak and tired. That I desperately need the God of the universe to reach down, take my hand and lead me. Hard times prove that I am merely dust.
I'm ok with that. Because out of these excrutiating moments is born the rememberance that my God is with me. He's perfectly sufficient. He's infinitely wise. He willingly infuses my life with His power. That in my weakness, He is shown strong.
Maybe they would do better to say that hard times show you what your God is really made of.
photo: Migrant Mother, Dorothea Lange, LIFE