You’ll Find It

This moment — that final stretch of labor, raw and overwhelming — becomes a crucible of human strength. My client, exhausted, trembling, facing the edge of what she believed she could endure, whispered what many of us have felt in moments of deep challenge: “I have no strength.”

But what followed speaks to a universal truth about strength. It isn’t always loud or visible. It doesn’t always feel like confidence or certainty. Sometimes, strength is the choice to keep going when everything in you says you can’t.

And in that moment, I said, “You’ll find it.” I didn’t mean she’d pull it from thin air. I meant that strength is not something you wait for — it’s something you uncover, deep within, when there’s no other choice.

She did find it — not because it magically appeared, but because it had been there all along. Dormant, yet everpresent and accessible. That moment was a reminder that strength isn't about ease — it's about endurance. It's not about the absence of doubt, but the presence of will.

Finding strength doesn’t mean you never falter. It means you rise anyway. You groan, you cry, you fall apart — and then, somehow, you gather the scattered pieces and move forward. In labor, in life, in grief, in healing — this is the way of strength. It is rediscovered in the very moments we believe we’ve lost it.

“You’ll find it” wasn’t encouragement. It was the truth. When everything in you says you can’t, strength is the quiet force that says you will.