Where to start... my heart is overflowing with God's love and mercy, and, as a recent journalism graduate, I'm atypically at a loss for words. I made it my collegiate endeavor to learn more about the art of communication, and yet, somehow, words escape me. God sometimes has a way of getting our attention, though, and that's what makes me thankful.
I would be underselling the state of our society by saying we're in disconcerting times. Calamity, turmoil, and violence are hallmarks of a difficult half year thus far. In times of uncertainty and unrest, it's easy to lose sight of God and His plans in our lives. Let's be real, it's not every year that a pandemic disrupts our day-to-day life and societal turbulence strikes fear into our hearts.
My life was no different. I pressed to finish my degree from home, began working full-time, tried adjusting more and more to adult life. As much as I give a side-eye when people overuse cliches, I succumbed to being ill-prepared to handle "adulthood." When life takes you by surprise like it did me, it can be *hard* to see God's plan and *easy* to lose faith. Isn't it funny how that works?
That's the place I've been struggling in lately, and it's hard to be that vulnerable. However, I think it's important for young people to acknowledge that life can be like that at times. It's my hope and prayer that by sharing my experiences, each of you won't be overwhelmed when you're in a place like that. There's a song that has resonated with me, and it describes my faith as being "cold and tired." That's as accurate a description as I can find.
The "fire in my soul" has been mostly absent and I've not found the joy in serving God that I KNOW is there. But, why? Am I just not good enough, incapable as a pilgrim and stranger, loyally treading my way towards the Celestial City?
I'm convinced that isn't the case. I'll be honest -- I was fed up with not feeling a fire in my heart to serve God. I've felt it so real in the past, but I couldn't find it, and I was determined to. So as I was beginning to look more deeply into the Bible, I got, as God would have it, a punch in the gut.
I opened my Bible tonight, desperate for answers.
Job 6:11
"What is my strength, that I should hope? and what is mine end, that I should prolong my life?"
Of course, while I was feeling sorry for myself for not being on fire for God, I would open to Job -- the quintessential example of a man seeking pity. But, a man that undoubtedly had more right than I likely ever will to have it... And yet, in his inquiry to God for answers to problems greater than my own, he asked, in a rather introspective way: "What is my strength?"
Instantly, my mind began thinking, what is *MY* strength? Why should *I* hope? The simple answer, one that I know intellectually, is Jesus. But does my heart fully understand what that means? I was reminded of verses I'd read in previous devotions, and of recent messages I'd heard.
In simple terms, I felt challenged by God. He was using the ancient words of a grief-stricken Job to cause me to reflect on my life, "What is my strength, that I should hope?" Friends, that was powerful -- and at first felt more like a dagger to the heart than comfort to uplift a searching soul. But, the more I've thought about it, the more I'm convinced that God has a purpose for the pain and a spiritual assignment for me. I have to find my strength and my hope.
Before I get too much into that, though, I think it's important to step back a little bit. As God's people, we are prone to slip into discouragement and complacency with spiritual tasks. What do we do? We plan revivals, hold meetings, and gather together for fellowship and encouragement. It's easy to think "if I can just hold out until Monark," or *insert favorite campmeeting here* then I'll be okay. But with COVID-19, those precious meetings keep getting cancelled or postponed. First, it was a revival, then it was Guthrie, and now West Virginia. I'll be the first to admit that has been difficult to watch. However, God reminded me tonight that it's not the meeting that makes the difference, it's the Lord we worship in those places.
The revival isn't in West Virginia -- or wherever we go to worship. The revival happens in our heart. And the good news is that revival can happen anywhere.
The message I heard on Sunday was perfectly timed. Times like these can bring us to our lowest of lows, to places we feel are unreachable. Yet, in times of instruction, that's exactly where God wants us to be. II Corinthians 12:9-10 says,
"And he 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. [10] 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."
Our weakness is an opportunity for God to magnify His purpose and exhibit His strength through us. This is where I can find my strength, in the almighty Savior who conquered death and the grave on my behalf. His strength is made *perfect* in my weakness. When I am weak, then *He* is made strong in me. That promise is an overwhelming one to me. He's set me on a journey to unlock that strength, to find its place in my life, and why that gives me a reason to hope.
Of course, a journey typically takes more than one night of uncovering encouraging scripture. Isaiah 1:17 enlightens,
"Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow."
Some of that instruction seems quite timely given the circumstances in our world, but all of it has a few things in common: we are to learn it, and it will cause us to do well. It takes time and progression, but it's clearly outlined as a path God wants to take us through. "To do well" is synonymous with the Hebrew word for righteousness. Whatever righteousness entails, that's part of our progressive education. If we want revival, this is a surefire path to finding it.
I know this post is a little bit long, but I hope you've followed along to the end. More than anything, I want this to be an encouragement to all of you who read it. It's okay to have days when your faith is cold and tired. We are humans, and there are times when we feel dry and empty. Revival of the heart is available for all of us. And while He's reviving our old bones, He just might send us on a journey that will show us more clearly where our strength comes from and how that gives us cause to hope. I hope you'll pray that I follow the trail where it leads, through the hills and valleys, all the way to Jesus Himself.
Keep encouraged!
