Grace in weakness

"You that seek what life is in death,
Now find it air that once was breath.
New names unknown, old names gone:
Till time end bodies, but souls none.
Reader! then make time, while you be,
But steps to your eternity."
-Baron Brooke

The apostle Paul said that in weakness we discover the glory, power, and grace of God. This is how God works. 
Anne Lamott recently said it’s okay to realize that you are crazy and damaged because all of the best people are. Suffering has a way of shaping us as people and as ministers. It has a way of equipping us to lead in ways that are helpful and not harmful. A healer who himself has not been wounded is limited in his ability to heal.

Some of the broken people in Scripture seem to be the ones through whom God did the greatest things. Hannah experienced bitterness of soul over infertility and a broken domestic situation. Elijah felt so beaten down by ministry that he asked God to take his life. David repeatedly asked his own soul why it was so downcast. Even Jesus, the perfectly divine human, expressed that his soul was overwhelmed with sorrow, even to the point of death. Each of these biblical saints, in his or her own way, was empowered by God to change the world—not in spite of the affliction but because of and through it.

Charles Spurgeon, the “Prince of Preachers,” experienced depression for many years of his ministry. William Cowper, the great hymn writer, had debilitating, paralyzing anxiety for most of his adult life. C. S. Lewis lost his wife to a violent form of cancer. Joni Eareckson Tada became paralyzed from the neck down when she was a teenager. All of these and others have been God’s chosen instruments for bringing truth, grace, and hope into the world. The best counselors have themselves been in counseling.

So if anxiety and/or depression is your affliction, I wish to share that there’s no shame in suffering from this or any other affliction. In fact, our afflictions may be the key to our fruitfulness as ministers. “Damaged” does not mean “ineffective.” It does not mean “done.”

Anxiety and depression can also, ironically, be a conduit of hope—an opportunity for the foolishness of God to be displayed in our lives. 

As ministers, we may discover in the end that our afflictions had greater effect in people’s lives than our preaching or our vision.

Many times I’ve encountered this affliction through or because of something related to ministry.

He has not called me to be awesome, or impressive, or a celebrity Christ-follower, or anything of the sort. He has first and foremost called me to be loved, and to receive that love. He has called me to remember that because of Jesus, I already have a name, and I will be remembered even after I am long gone, because he is my God and I am His. He is my Father and I am his daughter.

Søren Kierkegaard said the thorn in his foot enabled him to spring higher than anyone with sound feet. The apostle Paul said something similar about the thorn in his flesh. The thorn kept him from becoming cocky. It kept him humble. It kept him fit for God and fit for the people whom God had called him to love and serve. There is glory in weakness. There is a power made perfect in that place.

Though I wouldn’t wish affliction on anyone, I am strangely thankful for the unique way my hurts have led me, time and again, back into the rest of God.

“All the fitness he requireth is to feel your need of him. . . .”

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.
Proverbs 3:5-6