Beloved Weaklings

I hate looking weak. Absolutely hate it. And I know I’m not alone in that particular hatred. No one on this earth thinks to themself when they’re feeling weak “I just love this!”. That would be crazy. It’s a miserable rotten business. 

One of the reasons we hate it so much is because it’s not just us at a standstill, it’s our inability being broadcasted as well. In a world that prizes strength and ability, moments of weakness and inability seem to display a complete failure to make it. The message from the world is loud and clear: You are not enough and that makes you a failure.

In response to that threat from the world, we will do just about anything to avoid being seen as weak. Athletes will destroy their bodies rather than accept that they’re not up to the challenge of competition. Mother’s will increasingly isolate themselves to avoid admitting they are overwhelmed. Father’s will face down ruin rather than admit they need assistance. Reading this now, I bet you can think of all sorts of unpleasantness you would rather endure than admitting and having it known you’re weak. 

And at the same time, you know deep down what we all know: Mask it however you want, there are still things beyond your strength.

There are going to be days, events, trials, whatever else in your life where you are not enough and you have to make your peace with that. Why? Because that’s the whole point. 

There is no better way for God to show what he’s capable than your complete incapability. It’s a megaphone to his power. Not because he’s a cruel God who delights in our weakness, but because he’s a supremely powerful God who can do incredible things with our weakness. 

Some of the greatest moments of God showcasing his power come from the complete weakness or lack from people who probably wished they could have kept it all together. I think of the story of Gideon, when God sent most of his army home. His reason to the bewildered (and quite frankly probably frightened) Gideon is simply, straightforward, and to the very point of how God means to show his power. God tells Gideon that with his full army, the Israelites would be tempted to take all the glory and credit for themselves. This way, no one will be able to doubt exactly who had given them the victory. 

Our weakness in an invitation to get out of the way and let God do what he does best. If that sits uncomfortably with you, you’re in good company. This is a hard thing to wrestle with, but we have to remember that we are not the main character here. That’s the part concerning God’s power.

But God is not one-sided. He’s not just just, he’s merciful. And he’s not just powerful, he is tender as well. And his tenderness is where we see our place in the picture despite our weakness and failure. 

By power alone, God doesn’t need us a bit. He doesn’t need to have anything to do with us to accomplish what he wants to do. Yet for some reason, despite our failures and our weaknesses, we are constantly invited to be part of what he’s doing. His tenderness extends along with his power and invites us, as weak as we are to be part of what he’s doing. Why? Because while he doesn’t need us, he wants us. He wants us so much. He is overflowing with love for us that we cannot even imagine. 

Your weaknesses equal complete and utter failure in the world, but they are completely accounted for and covered by God. There is no weakness or failure that he is surprised or thrown by. He can’t be caught off guard by your shortcomings. You can spill the weakest, dirtiest, fouled up moments of yourself with him and he won’t flinch and look at you differently from then on. He already knew. He already planned for it. He’s still moving. He still wants you. There is no weakness in you so great that it could ever change how God looks at you. 

His power and his tenderness combine in a storm of fury that covers your every mistake. Weakness has nothing on your God. 

Let’s find some joy,

A