This story was sent to me by Janet Spears, a new friend who wanted to encourage me in my DARK DAYS OF THE SOUL:
by Kari Patterson
Last month, when we went through
those 17 stressors all at once,
I thought, “Oh good. There’s my break-down-and-cry session for the
year. Let’s get back into our groove and start thriving again!”
But then. We were heading into a super full month ahead, so I braced myself for the busyness. The same
day that I wrote that post,
I found out I was pregnant. I’ll share more on that story later, why we
were amazed and beyond thrilled, but suffice it to say the stressors
all faded away in light of this new miracle.
Yes, I was tired and nauseous, but it was worth it because it meant a little LIFE was growing inside my body.
But
then, a week later, Heidi came down super sick with a high fever. I
hoped it’d break quickly and she’d be better in the morning. She wasn’t.
The next day she was sick. And the next. I had to leave for a retreat,
and by then Jeff and Dutch were also coming down with it, so I
reluctantly left them home and headed off to speak.
That
night, I came down with it too. The whole retreat I felt so weak. I was
also doing a fast with a family member to pray over a specific
situation, so I had given up all caffeine for 40 days. Between
no caffeine, being pregnant, being sick, and being away from home and
not sleeping well, trying to have enough strength to speak to these dear
women, I was at end of myself. I just kept reassuring myself that I’d be home soon, could rest and recover, and it’d all be better.
When I got home from the retreat, we were all four still sick. And then, that night, I miscarried.
In
the middle of it, I felt so much peace. I knew God’s goodness, I was
able to praise Him, trust Him, sing to Him. He spoke specific words of
hope and encouragement to my soul, so although I cried most of the
night, I was really ok.
But it isn’t usually the sudden blow of sadness that gets us, it’s the slow wearying effect of daily discouragement.
That’s how I felt. The next day we were still sick. I kept up at my
optimism, always believing the next day we’d be better. And then next
day we were still sick. Heidi had hardly eaten anything in 10 days.
Finally on Wednesday, I was feeling strong enough to get to Bible study,
so I went.
Then, in the middle of study, I got a text
that Heidi had a horrible allergic reaction to bubble bath, she was
swelling up and breaking out in a rash over her whole body.
Seriously?!!
I
went home, to find her face swollen, her lips sticking out, bulging,
her tongue swollen, and a red puffy rash all over her body. While Jeff
went for Benadryl, I sat up beside her bed, praying over her, hopeful
the next day it’d be gone.
It wasn’t. It looked like chemical
burns all over. It itched terribly, and no matter what we tried, we
couldn’t seem to get it under control. The next day, it was slightly
better but still there. And the next day, still there. This was
day 12 of sickness, on top of the exhaustion, no caffeine, and
miscarriage, and Jeff or I had commitments 7 nights in a row, and I was
just. At. The. End.
By the time all the sickness and
reactions ended, it was the day before I was supposed to speak at a
conference, in a session for Pastor’s Wives. I so desperately wanted to give them a powerful, hope-filled message. I wanted to make the session worth their time. I wanted to encourage them.
But
I had nothing. I had no special insights from the Scriptures. I had no
clever 3-point sermon, no alliteration or outline or fill-in-the-blanks,
I had NOTHING. And I still needed to pack for our week of travel and
clean the house and do laundry and homeschool these kids and make a
dozen arrangements, and all I could do was cry. I spent my last
hour of “prep time” lying on my face before God, sobbing. No matter how
hard I tried to pull myself together, I couldn’t stop crying.
And there, with my face on the floor and the tears and snot soaking the carpet, the words of Jesus came to me,
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
There it was. Not only the message for my session and the message for my soul.
I grabbed my Bible and began scouring 2 Corinthians, amazed to see how
often Paul himself pours out his own list of laments, how often he was
weak, hungry, weary, sleepless. How often he was at the end of himself.
And yet over and over we see the reason for it:
That the power of God can be displayed.
I’m always praying for God’s power to be in display. But how often I tend to think that God’s power will be displayed through my power.
I want God’s power to be displayed through my powerful preaching, or
writing, or wisdom. I want God’s power to be displayed through health
and strength, through exhilarating times of worship, through energizing
church services, through successful endeavors.
That’s fine, but there’s no denying that more often than not, in the Scriptures, God’s power is displayed through our weakness. In fact, God’s power is made PERFECT (its very best display) through my weakness.
Of
course I’m willing to be strong for the sake of Christ, but am I
willing to be weak? Am I willing to be humbled? Am I willing to look
small and unimpressive? Am I willing to pursue a path that purposefully puts my weakness on display?
The next day, in a packed room of pastor’s wives, I laid out my story of weakness.
It wasn’t polished or pretty. Some might say it was pathetic, but then
we opened up the Scriptures and let them preach. Oh and did they
preach!!! They preached hope to us all—they told us that in our sorrow
we are comforted so that we can comfort others (that’s
ministry!). We saw that the treasure of the gospel is contained in weak
and unimpressive jars of clay (that’s us!) to show that the power if His
not ours. We saw that Paul was shipwrecked and beaten and hungry and
exhausted, and that he was content with all that because it meant the
power of God was put on display. And we saw that a messenger of Satan
was even allowed to harass Paul, because when he was weak, then he was
strong.
God met us in a powerful way, not because of my strength but because of His.
No
one likes feeling weak, of course. But the gospel gives us something
greater to live for than just our own feelings and fancies. We get to live for Christ.
And the Scriptures promise us a reward that is far beyond anything we
can possibly imagine, for those who choose the way of weakness for His
sake.
Are you weak today, dear friend? Don’t
lose hope. You are in the prime position to see God’s power perfected
in your life. Your weakness is not a sign of God’s absence, it is an
opportunity for His glory to be in display this very day.
Take courage, cling to Christ, for when you are weak, then you are strong.
