More on Weakness

It seems God has me on this theme … weakness.  First, the idea of working on our left–identifying our weakest areas rather than ignoring them enables us to grow and become more of a threat to the enemy.  This one seems fairly obvious, and it makes sense to me.  Work on weaknesses so that you can be stronger. Yes. I get that.

But what God’s been ministering to my heart since that last post has me surprised, yet it makes perfect sense.  My beloved husband, who is a walking library, suggested a book on leadership that has greatly impacted him.  It’s called Leading with a Limp, by Dan B. Allender, Ph.D.   I was instantly intriqued. 

The premise of the book is that most leadership books and strategies teach you to take advantage of your strengths and leverage power and minimize or diminish areas of weakness.  Instead, Allender maintains that the key to being greatly used  to glorify God is in taking full advantage of your flaws. Embracing weaknesses, authentically limping, refusing to protect one’s image makes a leader able to be used by God for great things, because self is no longer part of the equation. 

This struck me as an “aha!” moment, because it’s exactly what I see God showing me in my life.  Last semester, at the conclusion of the semester, we shared in our internship group what one verse characterized what GOd did in us that semester.  I shared 2 Corinthians 12:9, where Paul pleads with the Lord to remove a thron in his flesh, something that was apparently harassing him and making him desperate. The Lord replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  Therefore Paul says, “I will therefore boast all the most gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses…for when I am weak, then I am strong.”  That’s exactly how I felt last semester–stretched to the limit. 

Perhaps it is also no secret that at this particular moment in time I feel the weakest I’ve ever felt.  All week all I could think was, “Why on earth did I agree to teach the high schoolers, AND teach a class at Multnomah, a week and a half before I”m due with my 2nd baby, while Jeff has church commitments almost every night this week, my son has a cold, I’m not sleeping, I feel like this baby is going to fall out at any moment, we’re scrambling to get our out-of-town house fixed up to sell as our tenants just moved out on Friday.  I am at the breaking point, Jesus!  How can I stand up in front of these seminary women and expect to teach them anything. I’ll probably burst into tears!  I’m certainly not at my best…” 

So today, I knew Superbowl Sunday was probably my best bet at having time to study and prepare, as we planned to spend the day at my parents house (read: Dutch would be occupied).  But one tiny little thing pushed me over the edge, and I found myself, this afternoon, in tears instead of studying.  I can’t prepare to teach when I’m feeling this weak, I thought.  And so I did the only thing I knew to do, I went for a walk with God, and poured out my heart to Him, waddling my way up and down the driveway. 

And as cheesy as it sounds–God showed me my waddle is my limp.  The fact that I’m almost 9 months pregnant and emotional and stretched to the limit is the power of God manifest in my life.  And I believe, by faith, that somehow in the midst of my weakness, GOd will be glorified in that classroom as I teach, and in my life.  The fact that I don’t have it all together right now means God’s beauty and glory can shine through this broken vessel.  At least that’s what I’m believing, by faith.  And if Paul knows what he’s talking about (and I think he does), then it’s true.  When I’m weak, then I’m strong.  So perhaps right now, feeling like I’m fraying at the edges, perhaps I am at my best.  God is at His best in me.  Perhaps that’s what He wants these seminary women to know.  Perhaps God really means what He says in His Word, that His strength is made perfect in weakness. Perhaps we should not only identify our weaknesses, but boast in them, embrace them, go with them.  Perhaps the Church would discover a power in reaching a lost world that could never exist otherwise.  Perhaps the secret is weakness. 

I’m only scratching the surface, but I’m beginning to think that waddling my way through the next week or two, feeling on the verge of tears at all times, is ok.  I pray that God will glorify Himself through my weakness, however that might look.