“I came to you in weakness and fear…”
1 Corinthians 2:3

One of my favourite verses in the Bible doesn’t speak of love or promise, but of weakness and fear. No, it’s not morbid. It’s life. It’s funny how we always seem to focus on promises and prosperity without even entertaining the idea of weakness and fear. They’re ‘dirty’ words. I could describe my life over the last 12 months perfectly as weakness and fear. We are well acquainted. I literally personify weakness and fear. Over the last year, l’ve been living with it. Day in, day out. Weakness and fear can be crippling. They’re painful…

I have filled life with distractions of trivial things to muffle the deafening chatter and constant drag of weakness and fear… until I’m abruptly reminded again of the very mercies we live by each day. Sometimes life slaps us in the face to assure us that we’re not promised anything, and that when weakness and fear speaks, they are not to be ignored. My friend lost her baby… their son. It’s not my story to tell, but I’m peeled back to the shell that I’ve been trying to cover and fill with busyness… and all I can do is cry. I cry for the pain that no words will remove, for the questions no mere mortal can answer, for these mysteries of life that continue to haunt the least deserving, for the fact that ‘life’ can happen to any of us… but mostly, I cry for the weakness and fear they too will now have to endure. My friends, who have a faith and a strength that I will always admire… a resilience like I’ve never witnessed… a trust without borders. If only I was half the person…

I realise how still very broken I am… and weakness and fear squeezes me even tighter. I buy flowers and walk it to their hospital room. It’s the room directly next to where Sienna was birthed a whole year ago. I can’t do this. I hand the flowers to the nurse who tells me to take them in myself. I can’t. I can’t go any further. I leave as swiftly as I arrived. I just want to disappear and make everything go away. Life truly has moments that completely suck. That leaves us dry and void. I’ve got absolutely nothing to offer, but more sorrow and a flaunting growing belly. It’s not fair.

Weakness and fear can be crippling. They’re painful… but more than that, they can be incomparable teachers. What can weakness and fear teach us? Faith doesn’t rest on the wisdoms of man, but on the power of our Creator… on ‘the universe’,  on the ‘higher power’, or whatever else you’d like to refer to as God. Life is made up of beautiful contradictions; “Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted”…”when I am weak then I am strong”. In weakness we find our true strength… in fear we find our true voice.

Weakness and fear are merely tools, not a destination. They are to be used and discarded. They do not control us, but guide us. Don’t ignore them, don’t drown them, don’t bury them in busyness. Wear weakness and fear on your sleeve. Look it in the eye and acknowledge it. Stop pretending it doesn’t exist and grab that sucker by the horns. Learn your lesson, then here’s the hard bit… let it go.

I think maybe I’m still learning…

“… Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger…”