I’ve always admired Wonder Woman. The female superhero is kind, beautiful, and strong—everything we’re told we can be. Her daring weekly escapades filled my television screen as I grew up. I could be Wonder Woman. I could defeat evil (and those school bullies). I just needed a red, white, and blue bathing suit and a golden lasso. Oh yeah, and an invisible jet. (Although it didn’t make her invisible. I can’t quite figure out how that helped.)
A few years ago, I had a serious surgery. I had a pituitary tumor removed that’d been hanging out in my head for a while. This kind of tumor grows slowly, and lately it’d eaten too many potato chips (LOL), grown larger, and put pressure on my optic nerve. Because my vision was affected (as well as a host of other problems), I had it removed. The neurosurgeon and ENT were phenomenal and did a great job. I hope I never have to see them again. Since then, it’s been a struggle to discover what the new normal is for me physically. The tumor changed quite a bit of what “normal” felt like. Now, I have to ration my energy and realize some of the things on my “to-do” list won’t get done.
This morning, I spent some time with God and read a little from the book The Broken Way by Ann Voskamp. She wrote, “Why are we afraid of suffering? What if the abundance of communion is only found there in the brokenness of suffering—because suffering is where God lives? Suffering is where God gives the most healing intimacy.”
This method of handling suffering is in direct opposition to what women try to do every day. We try to be Wonder Woman. I’m okay, I have it together. I have forty-seven items on my to-do list, but darn it, I’ll finish forty-eight by the time the day’s over. I won’t ask me for help, because I can do it all. Meanwhile, things are breaking apart and crumbling on the inside.
I’ve seen it before in my community, my church, my friend group. A woman who seems to have it all together, but then I learn her husband’s having an affair. Or her brother’s dying of cancer. Or her mother’s suffering from an advanced case of Alzheimer’s. And she never asked for help, prayer, or a listening ear.
The Girl Power movement empowers young women to shoot for great things. But we also need to be teaching them and practicing God Power. It involves brokenness, and humility, and asking for help, not because we’re weak, but because we’re human.
It’s hard—I’ve cultivated that fake smile and the image that everything’s fine. But that’s not the real me. The real me struggles with low energy, mental fogginess, and anxiety. I’ve learned if I reach out for help, someone will be there.
After all, even Wonder Woman had the Justice League.
Award winning author J. M. Hackman loves thunderstorms, bookstores, and happy endings. She’s never met a reading nook she didn’t like and prefers soul talk to small talk. When she’s not writing or reading, she spends quality time with her greatest fans—her family.
She’s written Spark, Flare, and Burn (her YA fantasy series the Firebrand Chronicles) and has had her stories published in the anthologies Encircled, Tales of Ever After, Mythical Doorways, and Realmscapes.
She spends her days writing stories, consuming massive quantities of dark chocolate, and looking for portals to other worlds.
