I’m one of the more broken down, needy people that I know.
I don’t say that in a “feel sorry for me because I’m a loser” kind of way. I’m not looking for handouts or hugs or Kleenex with soothing aloe (regular Kleenex works just fine). I’m just being honest. I don’t have it together. I’m not exactly living the life of constant spiritual triumph.
I struggle a lot with physical anxiety, which in turn limits what I can do. I know some people who seem to have an infinite capacity for doing. They are constantly serving, constantly giving, constantly making noise for Jesus. Their serving engine is constantly running at peak capacity. I wish I was like that, but I’m not.
I’m not Mr. Awesome Brave Kick-Butt Christian. I’m not Captain Missional, leaping cultural boundaries in a single bound. I’m not throwing punches for Jesus (not sure if that analogy works, but whatever). I’m me. Weak, tired, seeking to serve effectively but often falling short, me.
So I’ve got two options. I can constantly feel like a low-grade loser because I’m not as good as my fellow Christians, or, I can glory in my weakness.
There are times when I choose the first option. When I wallow in my weakness, feeling sorry for myself because I can’t live the hardcore life that other Christians live. When I get frustrated that God has allowed me to be hamstrung by physical weakness.
But I’m starting to realize that there is something really beautiful about being broken down. When I embrace my weakness I can also embrace the sufficiency of Jesus. When I embrace my emptiness I can also embrace the complete fullness of Jesus. I can’t be fruitful for Jesus in my own strength. I simply can’t. I don’t have the willpower, fortitude, or intelligence to create spiritual fruit in myself. I can’t cause myself to be more loving. I can’t save any souls. I can’t get the whole parenting thing on track. I can’t put in herculean hours of serving.