Begins with two minutes of stillness and silence before God.

As I write this, the summer Olympics are around the corner. I’ve always felt that alongside every professional athlete who has trained thousands of hours to reach pristine physical condition, there should just be an average guy – you know, for reference – running or swimming or trying to fence based solely on what he’s seen in Zorro movies. That’s the only way I can truly measure and appreciate the level of commitment that Olympic athletes have made to their sports. The greater the weakness, the more impressive the strength.

I wasn’t athletic growing up – academics were more my thing. I had to have the best grades, and write the most compelling papers, and be the one others sought out when they needed help. But about two years into college, I experienced burnout. My feelings about achievement changed. I was exhausted from striving for good things that had no eternal impact. And when it came to things that really mattered – relationships, service, a passion for the Gospel – I felt weak.

Paul, the author of many letters to the early Church in the New Testament, writes of his own struggle with weakness in 2 Corinthians chapter 12. He calls it a “thorn in the flesh." There’s some speculation from commentators on what exactly he’s referring to, but most believe it’s some sort of physical ailment. He prays repeatedly for God to take it away, and finally, he receives a reply:

"But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more 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, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

Giving up control and embracing my weakness after decades of walking the tightrope of others’ approval felt like falling without a parachute – eyes wide, arms flailing, bracing for impact – but God was ready to catch me, and the peace that came with letting go was indescribable.

Maybe you find yourself in a season of weakness or disappointment. You were passed over for a promotion at work. You weren’t as patient or understanding as you wanted to be with your kids. You’re watching someone you love decline in health, and you can’t hold yourself together for much longer. Maybe you’re dealing with an illness or anxiety of your own that you didn’t expect, and it’s wearing you down. Can I tell you that it’s okay to let go and fall into the vast expanse of God’s love for you?

Charles Spurgeon brings some clarity, and I must warn you, it stings a little: “God does not need your strength; He has more than enough power of his own. He asks for your weakness; He has none of that Himself, and He is longing, therefore, to take your weakness, and use it as the instrument in His own mighty hand.”

The greater the weakness, the more impressive the strength; so, if we must be weak for others to see that our God is strong, let’s lay down our ambition and achievements. And when we fall, we’ll fall into the deepest depths of His perfect love for us.

Take two minutes to reflect in silence.

Reflection:

• Listen to "Fall In Love (Tightrope)" by Venture Worship on Spotify!
• What tightrope have you been TRYING to walk for too long?
  
• What has kept you from loosening your grip, letting go, and falling into the love of Christ?
  
• As Christians, why do you think it’s still so hard to allow ourselves to be weak?
  
• Prayer: Dear Lord, thank You for Your never-ending strength! Thank You for being strong so I don’t have to be. Convict my heart when I am trying to hang on to control that I think I have. Remind my heart that Your arms are ready to catch me when I let go. In Jesus’ name. Amen.