Do you ever find yourself nagged with the feeling that your life just doesn’t have much meaning? Or worth? Or purpose?
It’s not that life doesn’t have any purpose—of course it does. Life is our very first gift from God. He has purposed for us to live.
But life can really be a daunting road, for a lot of reasons. Especially if we’re held back by certain restrictions, or limitations, that most people don’t experience.
Those limitations can make us feel that we are more of a burden than an asset to our world.
Unfortunately, our world often does see others—who are less capable, or unable to perform life in certain ways—as less. But God doesn’t see us that way.
God sees us through the eyes of eternity.
For most of us, sooner or later it hits us: So…this is the life I get. This is where I am…and what I am. This is my lot in life. This…is me.
You’ve realized a long time ago that you have no other choice, but to patiently live with certain situations. You’ve struggled to improve your situations, however possible. And you’re having to deal with what you face on a daily or even an hourly basis.
Every day and every hour, you mentally prepare yourself to face it—to play out the “hand you’ve been dealt.”
You manage to survive.
But still, the questions persist: Is there a good reason—a purpose—for all of my struggles? Does God understand? Does He care?
In our present conditions, most of us will seek some consolation. We might call it a “doing my best, with the best that I’ve got” type of attitude.
And sure, the right attitude can make a lot of difference, if we’re facing a life of limitations.
We have learned things differently than those more fortunate than ourselves. We know that we must struggle with certain hardships or restrictions that others might know very little about.
That’s us. The “less fortunate.” The “limited.” Set to the side.
But what if we are actually something else as well—something very few people are able to see, or believe?
Rather than the “limited”, what if we are the “limited edition?” The “set-apart ones?”
Not simply set aside—but set apart—for some specific purpose of God?
Does this surprise you? Possibly, you’re way out ahead of me.
You may have figured this out some time ago, as you’ve sensed the plans and purposes of God interacting—working in the details of your everyday struggles of life. I certainly hope that you have.
But life really can be a rough road for many of us—filled with potholes and pitfalls, wrong turns and missed signs. It can all really mess with our heads, especially if the attitudes we take along aren’t so up for the ride.
A voice of doubt nags from the backseat, trying to convince you that that there really isn’t a higher lesson to be learned from a life of limitations.
Another voice of condemnation whispers that maybe you aren’t as noble as you would believe yourself to be—and that you won’t become better through this process.
And yet another voice—this one of self-pity—keeps you stubbornly refusing to care. This is when the road can get dangerous.
Those moments of regret hang like a heavy, dark cloud, and you might allow despair to overtake you. Sorrow can suddenly seize you, and win the battle of the day.
Your disappointments might dig their dirty heels in. The long and lonely night hours taste of bitterness.
It’s a painful encounter with yourself, that always seems to blind-side you when you least expect it.
You find yourself in a nasty nosedive. As you see the ground rushing toward you closer and closer, all you know to do—and all you can hope for—is to try to pull out of it.
You better have your Jesus-chute on. And make sure it’s securely in place.
This is not the time for lip-service—for being “His” in name only—but completely and purposely sold out to Him. (With all sales final. And no returns accepted).
He alone is your hope. He alone is your help when things are dangerous.
He is.
He—who fights for the fainthearted. He—who defends the defenseless. Who binds up the wounds of the wounded, and the brokenhearted.
Who comforts those who mourn. Who strengthens the weary. Who calms the storm, out on a dark and angry sea.
Yes, that’s Him. That’s your Jesus. The One. The only. Accept no substitutes.
God is always in perfect control, of all that we are—if all that we are is His.
Yes, we are the needy ones, and the simple ones. The weak, and the worn, and the weary ones. And we are exactly who He has fashioned us to be.
We are exactly who He had in mind—exactly who He comes searching for, at just the right times—with just the right purpose.
He reveals His strength—through us—to an unbelieving world.
Sure, one might be able to believe that a mighty man of valor could do something great. And most people easily believe that some very tough and talented individual can accomplish wonderful things. Why not?
The world is always looking for the strong, the brave, the ultra-talented. They gladly bring their cheers and resounding applause into every stirring sports arena. Oh, how they love a winner!
That is…until they aren’t winning anymore. Then they are soon forgotten, replaced by a new winner, a new hero. A new idol. Thankfully, God isn’t like that.
God loves losers.
He really does. He knows they aren’t losers at all—but winners, clothed in weakness. Great people—not yet called upon—to serve to their fullest capacity.
Try to imagine for a moment, God’s great arsenal of covert operatives, waiting in the wings—each one having been instructed and disciplined at “The Jesus Training Academy of Weakness.”
Each one having honed their own particular skills—hour upon agonizing hour—where they are repeatedly disappointed, taken to the brink of despair, sometimes friendless, and often misunderstood.
Jesus troops. Created for service. Born for adversity. Each one having gained skills and strength in the trenches of frustration, anxieties, uncertainties, and painful pursuits.
The Bible explains the brilliant design of God’s chosen vessels—few that the world would ever consider a good choice. But God has a different way of looking at worth:
“But unto them which are called, both Jews and Greeks (Gentiles), Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men.
For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: But (I love this!) God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise;
and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; And base (simple) things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chose, yea, and things which are not (nothing), to bring to nought (nothing) things that are (something): That no flesh should glory in his presence.” (I Corinthians 1:24-29, parentheses mine.)
The world at large will rarely even notice such weak ones: these frail and frustrated ones, these questionable and quiet ones. To them, they seem to be almost worthless, with little to give.
A selfish, self-centered world can’t take the time to feel their pain, and their disappointments.
To them, these weak ones almost don’t exist.
But what our world can not recognize, is what they can’t see—the hearts of the weak.
The hearts of the weak have been given to God completely. Their weaknesses are forged into fearlessness. The fires of adversity create gold!
Only God Himself knows this kind of strength—the kind of strength that has been squeezed from fragility. The greater resolve that has been framed within the pain.
Only He alone can know what great potential is held in weakness. The tears, kept in God’s bottle—saved in the masterful reservoir of His unsearchable purposes!
Only He alone can understand the hour of crisis, where such healing out of heartbreak can be used—infused with the strength of the One who calls them, even for one strategic hour—to demonstrate His greatest force:
Love.
God comes down, wherever weakness is found.
This is what He does—filling the weak with His might! Astounding the world with His strength—through their weakness, where strength might seem to be out of place—but there it is!
Look at this incredible firsthand account from Paul, as he gives his personal glimpse of the struggle within his own life:
“And He (the Lord) said unto me, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, parenthesis mine).
Truly, to suffer with Christ is to know Him in the trenches—in the painful war of weakness. And to discover the strength—His strength—that lies within the suffering, and beyond it.
Do you feel like a failure?
You are purposed (created and called) to fail—that you might be broken.
The vessel that has been broken—upon the “rock” of God’s purposes—is promised to be reborn, refined, and rebuilt anew. Remade—after the image of God’s own great strength—that only the awesome God of grace can provide.
Ephesians 6:10-20 shows us something amazing, as Paul exhorts believers to be faithful. But there’s something more here, as we will see:
“Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil…Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit…
And for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel. For which I am an ambassador in bonds…”
Think about that. Paul—such a mighty man of God. He had certainly experienced a great deal of “fire” in his life of suffering.
But it doesn’t appear that he was feeling sorry for himself, even though he was held by chains of imprisonment. Instead, he referred to himself as an “ambassador in chains.”
What a great title to have! His weaknesses—now worn like medals of honor—upon this war veteran of Christ.
Remember friend, God loves your weaknesses—He planned for them. And He will use them for good, to show Himself strong. This is what He so wonderfully does, in each and every generation, when willing vessels become completely His.
Like soft and pliable clay, within the potter’s gifted hands—we are molded into things we could have never imagined, or could ever hope to become—in our weakness.
The pain and the turmoil of weakness has brought us here. Right here. Right now.
The Lord of all strength is watching, as your life now unfolds before Him. And He hasn’t missed a moment—of you.
O mighty, wounded warrior of His! Believe what His own word tells you about the weak things of this present world—those prized and perfected wounded of God. Expect great and wondrous things to happen in your life—His life in you.
Because He knows you. And the power of your weakness.
