Tag: christianity

Talk About Trouble: Intro

On this frigid January morning when I arrived to drop my daughter off at school, the staff and volunteers weren’t ready for us. At the designated drop off time, the cones were still on their dollies, the vests were still hung, and no one was there to greet or check in our students. The line of cars wrapped around the parking lot, waiting.

The question loomed in front of us all: what do we do now?

Little do we know how much our responses to the hiccups in our day reveal about our characters. Little do we know how far most of our responses are from God’s hopes.

A boy got out of the car in front of us, one of my daughter’s classmates. He’s twelve. I know because she went to his birthday party a month ago. He had a coat, but no hat or gloves, and the moment he stepped out of the car he already looked cold. He jogged across the parking lot as we all speculated where he was going. Was he going to tell them his mom had to get to work, could they please hurry up? Was he in desperate need of a bathroom?

“He’s probably going to help,” my daughter, who knows him, said.

Sure enough, a moment later, he reappeared in a vest and started helping set up cones. It’s not his job. It’s never been his job. No one else was doing it. No one asked him to do it. No one expected him to do it. He did not come prepared to do it. But he saw others struggling to accomplish the work, for whatever reason, and it was within his power to help – so he helped.

What can we bring to the Lord?
    Should we bring him burnt offerings?
Should we bow before God Most High
    with offerings of yearling calves?
Should we offer him thousands of rams
    and ten thousand rivers of olive oil?
Should we sacrifice our firstborn children
    to pay for our sins?

No, O people, the Lord has told you what is good,
    and this is what he requires of you:
to do what is right, to love mercy,
    and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

And it struck me, thunder and all – that’s what Job means. That’s the difference between righteousness and its knockoff, hypocrisy. The difference between the real God and his countless imitations. Righteous men do not stop to think what they can gain by right action; God does not stop to think what reward he will receive for his goodness. He acts good because he is good. Job acted righteously because he was righteous. They need no reward to continue acting the same because it is what they are. The rewards they receive are only joy added to the joy of acting according to their being.

It’s all about motivation. I say it all the time, so I’ll say it again: it’s all about motivation!

What moves me to act the way that I act? What moves God to act the way that he acts? What is our motivation?

That is the question. (Sorry, Hamlet.) The answer to it reveals what is so well buried by our actions, by our accomplishments, by our outward appearances: our hearts. The revelation, purification, and reconciliation of our hearts with God’s heart is his ultimate purpose, the good thing his good heart wants to accomplish because he is good.

So, he allows us to be tested to reveal what we are made of. And one of the clearest ways to reveal our hearts is how we respond to trouble: our own, and that of those around us.

This morning, I saw a twelve year old boy meet God’s hopes for us all: when others struggled with the weight they carried, he did not mock, disdain, or complain about their weakness. He did not wait to find out they had a good reason before he would help. He did not stand in superiority over them and demand they meet some unrealistic, unhuman standard of strength, believing he could do better in their place. He was not entitled to their work or critical of their failure. He did not consider why they were late and whether or not they deserved to suffer the consequences of it. He just zipped up his coat, got out of the car, and helped.

So let’s talk some more about trouble. Let’s talk about Job. Let me talk about what I found.

Power Made Perfect

When I was little, we spent a good amount of time at the Christian bookstore. I loved the little knickknacks they sold there; delicate teacups and wall hangings with Bible verses on them, holographic bookmarks, name cards with name meanings and verses, pens and erasers and journals and gum and whatever little baubles they could slap a verse or clever saying on and call it “inspirational.” I bought a magnet once that had a puppy leaning sleepily on a dumbbell and saying, “If it can’t be easier, Lord, help me to be stronger.” For a long time, I thought that attitude sounded pretty holy.

I have lived around strong enough people in my life to know I am far from the strongest of people. I am the youngest in my family: weakest. I am the girl among the boys: weakest. I am the shy one: weak. The quiet one: weak. The bookish one: weak. Weak, weak, weak.

As an adult, I wrestle with less obvious kinds of weakness every day. I am the disorganized one: weak. The time blind one: weak. “Irresponsible,” people who grow frustrated with my weakness say. “Childish. Lazy.” And I hear what they don’t say: weak.

I hate watching nature documentaries because I see what happens to the weak in a world full of stronger things. I’m not a fool. I know I’m the one the predator targets. I know I’m not the one who wins the fight.

God and I have had many a discussion about my weakness. They tend to go like this: “God, why did you make me so weak? If it can’t be easier, Lord, help me to be stronger! I need to be STRONG!”

And God says: “My grace is sufficient for you, my power made perfect in weakness. Why do you need to be strong?”1

And I say, “But God. People are angry at me. They’re angry at me for being a burden, for being so weak that I tax their strength. I ask too much of them. I need to be stronger! I need to pull my weight.”

And He says, “The strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please themselves. Blessed are those who have regard for the weak. I chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. Why do you need to be strong?”2

And I say, “But Lord, Your word says, “Be strong and courageous.”3 I need to be strong. I need to be strong so I can help the weak.”

And He says, “Be strong in me, and in MY mighty power. My power is made perfect in weakness. You have the strength to help the weak; you have Me. Why do you need to be strong?”4

And then I start to really think about his question. Why do I need to be strong? So I can take care of myself. So I won’t need help. So I can be impressive, not disdained. So I won’t be vulnerable. So I won’t be hurt anymore. So I will be safe.

And He whispers, “So you won’t need Me.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. I want to be strong so I can be independent from God. I want to be what He is so I don’t need Him.

And I feel His heart go quiet and sad. Because not only is He strong, He wants to be strong for me. He wants to give me the gift of His strength. He wants to show me His love this way. And I keep insisting that’s not enough for me. What an ungrateful way to treat a gift of love.

And what of this: what if God has allowed me to be weak to reveal the hearts of the strong? What if I am a challenge, a question: What if you were the strongest one? That may be the hardest test a soul can take. What would you do in God’s shoes? My weakness asks the strong. What would you do with His power? Will you spend your strength for yourself, or use it instead on me? How many strong people have flunked the test of the weak! Look at the cruelty splattered across the pages of human history, across our cities, in our streets, in even our homes, from one side of the world to the other and back again. What if my weakness exposes others’ wickedness so that humankind can repent – confess – be healed! What if it makes us marvel all the more at God, strongest of us all, who is never, ever cruel.

And God whispers, “Will you help them see Me? Will you be weak?”

All right, Lord. If my weakness reveals Your glory, then if it can’t be easier, be strong for me. If it can’t be easier, be my stronghold, my refuge, my strength! If it can’t be easier, then Christ’s power rest on me. Mine will be the witness of the weak.

Even the weakness of God is greater than man’s strength!5

“This is what the Lord says:

“Let not the wise boast of their wisdom
    or the strong boast of their strength
    or the rich boast of their riches,
but let the one who boasts boast about this:
    that they have the understanding to know me,
that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness,
    justice and righteousness on earth,
    for in these I delight,”
declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 9:23-24

  1. 2 Corinthians 12:9 ↩︎
  2. Romans 15:1, Psalm 41:1, 1 Corinthians 1:27 ↩︎
  3. Joshua 1:9 ↩︎
  4. Ephesians 6:10, 2 Corinthians 2:19 ↩︎
  5. 1 Corinthians 1:25 ↩︎