The Quiet Series: Too Weak
“… They were all trying to frighten us, thinking,
“Their hands will get too weak for the work, and it will not be completed.”
But I prayed,
“Now strengthen my hands.”
Now… strengthen my hands.
God has given me work to do, of that I have no doubt. That work gets me up early every morning, eager to get to it. It is a vocation that I love, but it’s still work. And sometimes the work wears me out.
Yesterday was one of those worn out days.
And so I slept in, drug myself sluggishly to my cabin in the back where most of my work is done, dinked around, wasted time. I started things, then abandoned them at the slightest hint of resistance, leaving a trail of messes along the path of my day.
It happens to me sometimes. More often than it should.
Yesterday’s malaise had nothing to do with my work… and everything to do with me. Sure, I was tired. I didn’t feel good, hadn’t slept well, needed a bit of rest.
More than anything else, I just lost steam… why is that?
And so I got up this morning, asking my Father. I came to Him needing to hear, wanting to know so that this day would be different. I asked timidly, like a naughty school-girl expecting a finger in my face.
Instead of reprimand, I heard compassion, grace. I sensed His heart, so much nicer towards me than my own heart is.
I heard Him say… that He knows how that thick wall of opposition sometimes slows us down… to a crawl.
While I was lambasting myself for being lazy… He was seeing the unseen.
He knows what I didn’t even notice— those enemies of my soul, disguised and hidden— who, behind a smokescreen of silence— threaten, defeat, frighten, and discourage me.
Nehemiah knew them as strength stealers. Paul knew them as conflict conspirators.
Sometimes, as in Nehemiah’s story, the strength-stealers come in the form of a letter… and e-mail… a phone call.
At other times, those joy-zappers come wrapped in guilt. Or comparison. The fiery darts that defeat us before we even begin.
Mamas know those enemies too. The ones that keep you up at night, wrapped in worry.
The voices that scream inadequate! with every mistake you make.
But here’s what woke up my morning: all Nehemiah did, when he realized what was really going on was this—He prayed a simple prayer, with simple words:
Now, strengthen my hands.
And so as this new day beckons with new lists, new worries, new challenges, I bring these simple words to the Father.
Now, strengthen my hands.
And then I come again and bring these words for you, all the wearied ones, the ones I know and love, whose work sometimes wears them out:
Now, Father, right now, will you strengthen her hands?
From my heart,
P.S. May I pray for you? If you will let me know in the comments, it would be my honor to bring this simple prayer to the Father who hears.
P.S.S. Read Nehemiah’s story in Nehemiah 6, and Paul’s story in Acts 9:19-29 because what He did for these men, He offers to you— and me.
(Image by Abi Porter)