I used to think that when I prayed for God to give me strength in my weakness that He would somehow infuse me with a kind of strength magic, and I would feel my spiritual muscles cartoonishly growing, like Popeye after eating a can of spinach. Now I know. I know that when I pray for strength it means: When I am hurting I can have the guts to admit it. I can cry instead of getting angry and lashing out. Instead of denying my feelings I can admit them. Instead of pretending I can tell the truth. When I have a need I tend to it, and I don’t…