“But he answered me, ‘My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.’ So I will celebrate my weaknesses, for when I’m weak I sense more deeply the mighty power of Christ living in me.” (2 Cor. 12:9 TPT)
To be completely honest, I have felt the fragility of my spirit this week. My ambivalent future-oriented mentality was kicked into full gear and I barely caught a glimpse of the moments as they passed. Nothing inside of me wanted to write this week – there was no word laid upon my heart or inspiration from the world around me. Exasperated, I almost skipped this week, fully aware that if it happened once, the ball would never stop rolling. My mind was done processing and felt like calling it quits when some little vexed voice inside of me harshly whispered, “JUST WRITE!” So with heavy eyes and a messy bun, I kept that vow to myself of writing this blog post. You see, my truest desire is to write so that others may find how vastly they are loved by their Savior and how wonderful purposeful living can be. While I do hope that the words I share resonate with people, this outlet of creativity also exists to spark some sense of routine into my life of constant change. I unashamedly write for me.
I’d like to say that through my words, I could have the potential to knock down fortresses and extinguish condemnation and shame. I wish I could embody a sense of strength in my messages and in my deeds, and feel that my successes were tied to the power of Christ surging through me. Sometimes, this is the case, all praise to Him. But most of the time, I am just weak.
It is hard to be transparent. I have barely grazed the surface. It is difficult to admit that sometimes I don’t want to write because I feel like my words are dry bones. In life, I try to make a point to be as real with the people I encounter as possible, but even the stories I explain to attempt relatability are either laced with a silver lining or told in incongruous humor for serious subject matter. Acknowledging my own weakness and being comfortable dwelling in it for the time being is an astronomically feat.
But when I am weak, He is strong.
So I am choosing to be intentional. I recognize my weak, helpless state and am consciously choosing to let words flow from my fingertips anyways. I will not let myself build up a wall at a place that God may want to outpour a waterfall of truth. I feel as though my words are meaningless – but HIS words are sustenance. Make me a vessel, Lord.
So today, I want to speak over you the words of encouragement I am speaking over myself, and what the Creator of the Universe is speaking over me:
Your voice is a melody; there is a stream of pure, nourishing water flowing from your lips when scripture is in your mind; there is nothing greater than love in all its forms; your feelings are valid and you are not alone; weakness is not interchangeable with giving up; His grace is sufficient for you; He desires to rejoice over you with singing and quiet you with His love; in His presence are green pastures and calm streams; never say no to your creative outlet; jot down whatever is causing you pain and cry over it or burn it; give yourself grace; you are never too far gone; dwell in the moment.
I want to leave you with this quote from TB LaBerge, and I highly encourage you to read the entire piece as well: “Learn and learn, until you see; give and give, until you feel; love and love, until it’s real. Grace upon grace upon grace, until we have made our way home.”
If you are unfamiliar with LaBerge’s ability to pierce our souls with his compositions, go look up some of his quotes. God is using brokenness and transforming it into beauty. It is okay to be weak, fragile, lost, angry, hopeless, and exhausted – in all of this, His strength will radiate into the deepest crevices of this broken world, and in the dead winter ground, soil will begin to break.