I feel so limited, so weak, so unsure.
I feel God has called me to write this book, and yet it seems like I am trying to swim upstream to attain the goal, to complete the task, to publish the book.
It seems sometimes as if everything is working against me to do the very thing I am trying to do. I am tired, have trouble concentrating, get carpal tunnel—to the point where I can’t write or type for an entire day sometimes.
I find I need coffee and more coffee to stay awake to even write for a few hours, and then I find myself lying awake at night having trouble falling asleep from the very caffeine I feel I can’t concentrate without.
It feels my physical body is failing me, that my mental state is weak and uncapable of such a grand task as this.
And it all wears on my spirit.
I think of that verse, my spirit is willing but my flesh is weak {Matthew 26:41}. And oh how that couldn’t be more true of me in this season.
Oh, how my spirit longs to complete this task, to carry out this calling, to write this book. But oh, how I feel the crippling weakness of my flesh.
How long, O Lord, will I feel this way? This weak?
And then I hear His voice whisper to me:
Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.
Not sure if it’s His voice directly so much as it is the words of Scripture I have heard that rings in my ears. These reminders of God’s Truth. This one in particular found in Romans 12:12.
Jay and Katherine Wolf came and talked to the youth at our church today, and their words linger in my ears… I won’t try to quote them directly, but it was something along the lines of that our feelings are completely separate from God’s Truth.
God’s Truth is constant, His Word steadfast, His character true.
My flesh may fail me, but my God never will.
My heart and flesh cry out… for the living God {Psalm 84:2}.
Oh, that His Word would become living and active in me {Hebrews 4:12}. In my soul. That it would come alive and bring strength to these weary bones, and joy to this weary soul.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t. But always my God can.
Sometimes I feel weak. But my God is always strong.
Sometimes I feel completely and utterly overwhelmed and underqualified; but my God is always able, is always equipping me to carry out the calling He has entrusted to me.
And so when the tears fill my eyes from the thoughts of doubt and despair that precede them, I will lift my eyes to the Heavens where my help comes from, to the One who helps me, who guides me, who has called and is equipping me.
And I will hold up these empty and open, small—and often achy—hands to the One who made them, made me, to the One who fills them, holds them, and pulls me along gently but surely with them.
He’s holding my right hand. He’s guiding me along the Way.
He’s guiding you, too. Calling and equipping you, too.
Would this be our prayer, our reminder, our default when we feel the attacks from the Enemy’s lines:
I lift my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
Would we look up and be lifted up—up and out of doubt and despair and into His great and marvelous light. To His joy. His Truth. To Him. Only and always and ever to Him, toward Him, all that we are and all that we do for Him.
For it’s all about Him. It’s not about me.
If I am working for Him, then He will help me. It may not look exactly like I want it to. It may not be on the exact timeline I might want for it to be. But my God will carry this task to completion and He will carry me onto completion until the day of Christ Jesus. {Phil. 1:6}.
Of this I will be confident. In this I will find my confidence, my strength, and my endurance to press in to Him and to press on toward to goal. And I know the prize awaiting me is not worldly recognition or praise, but the very prize that is Jesus Christ Himself {Phil. 3:14}.
To Him be the glory, honor and praise. Forever and ever. Amen.
