“Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” Matt. 11:28 (NIV)
Jason and I sat helpless in the hospital room in North Carolina where our ten-year-old son had been in-and-out of for three weeks. His symptoms were gradually getting worse, and as the days wore on, the doctors had more questions than answers for his condition. The more tests they ran, the less everything made sense. At that same time, Jason was making phone calls to some of our biggest supporters to reconnect with them and to let them know how to be praying, only to find out that each of them had changing household circumstances. That meant that in the first three phone calls we found out we were losing a big chunk of our support. Here we were sitting in a hospital room. Our medical bills were climbing, our support-account was dwindling, and two weeks prior to my son’s hospitalization, I had felt God’s leading to turn in my notice at the mission agency where I was working to help fill the shortfall of our support account.
Even if it were out of well-meaning intentions, if someone would’ve quoted Philippians 4:13 or Isaiah 40:29-31 to me at the time, I would’ve either cried or punched them—preferably only the former. I was exhausted, broken and confused. God’s strength felt elusive to me. However, I think that’s the problem with how we define God’s strength. His strength isn’t a “feeling” like you get with a caffeinated shot of espresso that wakes us up so we you can motor through our circumstances. It’s a promise that we have to claim, especially when we’re weary and worn out from life’s struggles. His strength rests in our eternal hope, not our immediate circumstances.
When you’re doing God’s work, whatever it looks like, you’re on the playing field taking direct shots from the enemy. No matter how short or long you’ve been on the support-raising journey, it’s certain you’ll have times when you’ll feel like you can no longer go on. Jesus said, “Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” Only when we’re still during the raging storm (Psalm 46:10) are we somehow bolstered by an unnatural strength that’s not our own.
I made it through that difficult season of my life. I literally cried out to God many consecutive nights and fasted until I was weak. However, somehow finding His strength when I had absolutely none of my own, drew me closer to Him. That is the same hope for you.
- Allow yourself to be real with God and tell Him how you really feel about everything you’re going through.
- Take the time to be still and discover a strength that’s not your own.