Weak and Broken

As a girl, I observed my mother and her strength as a single mother. She was graced with the ability to step up to the task of raising my sister and myself (at that time I was a terror), without any help and what seemed to be without any desire for more than what we had. I remember loving this image of my mom; loving her strength most of all.
For many years, beginning at the age of around 7, I prayed specifically for strength like my mom. I began to admire strength and pursue this virtue in every aspect of life. I still admire my mom for her strength, but have come to face the truth that her strength is not her own, it is God's. He was the Provider, the Protector, the Father, and the Head of our family; my mom followed Him.
I took strength to a new level. In everything, I look at the situation with logic, pursuing the "best" choice and putting on an image of strength to succeed. I am tired, so very, very, tired. I am tired of trying to be strong. I am done with this prayer, and I embrace my brokenness. Now, my prayer is a soft heart; one which is penetrable, that gives in to being hurt. Now I pray for weakness.