Hidden Tracks: The Lie of “I Have to Be Strong”

Recently I remembered a place I went to as a teenager. It was a place I had only heard about growing up. They called it The Secret Sidewalk.

You had to know someone who knew someone. Hidden off Old Canyon Road, down a trail and across some old railroad tracks, it was nestled way back in the canyon. It was mysterious. Exclusive. Like you were in on something special.

But the thing is—there are places like that inside us, too. Places hidden way back in the canyon of your mind and heart. Not physical places, but emotional and spiritual tracks we walk down. We all have them. But are they good?

Hidden Tracks – The Series

We’re in a series at church called Hidden Tracks—talking about the stories and soundtracks we play on repeat in our minds. Stories that seem normal, even helpful. But underneath them? Lies. Lies that shape how we see ourselves, others, and God.

Last week, Pastor Chad exposed a hidden track about shame. Shame that pretends to be humility or personal responsibility—but really, it’s destructive.

This Week’s Lie: “I Have to Be Strong”

This week, we’re tackling another track. One you might recognize:

“I have to be strong.”

It sounds noble. Responsible. Even biblical. But what if it’s not? What if it’s a lie that’s quietly doing damage?

This belief hides behind statements like:

  • “I have to protect myself.”
  • “No one else is going to do it.”
  • “I can’t afford to break down.”

Our culture rewards strength—emotional resilience, physical power, mental sharpness. Motivational speakers tell us to “power through.” Instagram says, you got this. But do you?

The Flip Side of Strength

Some of us reject that pressure to perform—but then swing to the other extreme. We get stuck focusing only on what’s wrong with us. We label our weakness as “bad” or “negative,” forgetting that Scripture doesn’t do that.

There’s a better way.

Paul’s Strength Redefined

In 2 Corinthians 10–12, Paul—apostle, church planter, spiritual father—is being undermined. False teachers were twisting his words, questioning his calling, dismissing him for not being flashy or strong enough.

Instead of defending himself with his credentials, he did something radical.

He boasted in his weakness.

Beatings, imprisonment, shipwrecks, hunger. These weren’t his failures. They were his proof. His spiritual street cred. And he wasn’t just being dramatic. He was redefining what it means to be strong.

Why? Because he knew this truth:

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”
— 2 Corinthians 10:5

What If We Didn’t Have to Be Strong?

What if the point wasn’t to prove ourselves?
What if the hidden sidewalk we’ve been walking—this inner path of pressure and self-reliance—wasn’t leading us to freedom, but to burnout?

God isn’t asking us to pretend we’re strong. He’s asking us to surrender. To stop repeating the lies in our heads, and start replacing them with truth.

So let’s start here:
You don’t have to be strong. You have to be surrendered.

That’s the only strength that lasts.

What “hidden tracks” have you been listening to that sound like strength, but are actually rooted in fear or self-protection?

Where in your life might God be inviting you to stop striving and start surrendering—trusting His strength instead of your own?

Thanks for Listening,

Starla

One Comment Add yours

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.