For my part, I wish the word thing was more descriptive. Some days are just plain strange. And by strange I don’t mean anything particularly unusual about the weather, events, or food. I mean that in my head things feel awkward. And when my head does weird things, usually my body starts to feel sleepy and motivation seems to run wherever I am not. This day was one of those days, except for the fact that I am going to fight this feeling of discontentment, strangeness, or whatever it is inside of me. However, I shall not do it alone.
I guess I am not doing a particularly good job of describing what it is exactly that I feel. I am not mad at God, or angry with any of my neighbors. I am not even really feeling super sad or discontent. I am resisting being grumpy, but I have to do that just about every day. It is a feeling of lack or need of one crucial thing, upon which it seems so many other things are founded. It is lack of strength. This feeling of lack, and likely it is more than just a feeling, makes everything else a little rainy on the inside and the outside. It seems that if one doesn’t think one has the strength to do anything, then how will he accomplish anything? Thus, for sure, it weakens motivation. It seems that if joy takes any strength at all, then all we have strength for is just to work against a grumpy attitude. It seems that if the next move takes any of this remaining strength, then it would be better to rest a while from any small draining activities. It seems that if it takes any work to look at the world through God’s eyes and not our own, then it would be better to let the world be a dull, dreary circle of repetition without purpose or end.
Surely and truly this is a lack of strength. And this is a weakness that God delights to give strength to. This is the weakness that God plants in us to make us trust in Him. It is a weakness that points us to how small we are, and brings us to desire Christ’s strength. In Psalm 28: 1-9, David writes, “The LORD is the strength of his people, he is the saving refuge of his anointed.” Our weakness is where the gospel is found. Our weakness is what Christ came to die for. Our weakness is what Christ rose to destroy. Our weakness is what Christ ascended to reign over with his strength and through the Holy Spirit. Yet he did not do this so that we could be strong again by ourselves, but so that we could share in the everlasting strength of Jesus Christ, our LORD and savior.
So I exhort you to accept that you are weak. Don’t fight the feeling of lack. But one thing throw aside – that is the weight of sin which mocks you every step of the way. Throw yourself upon Christ. He came so that you could take his strength. This may seem absurd to some. How could we take someone else’s strength? And if you will answer me this, then I will answer that question. How can you take the energy of that piece of bacon you just ate, or of the cup of coffee you’re sipping on, or of the doughnut that you publicly ate three weeks ago? It is miraculous and supernatural we can say – like the daily, repetitive activities of life. We must not think that because something is repetitive, that therefore it is natural and not miraculous. If we truly believe in God, then why don’t we do as he says?
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”