I woke up Monday with a million things to do. Midway through the morning, I felt sick. My head throbbed; my stomach ached. I couldn’t look at a computer. The sun felt too bright, and the room too hot. I tried pushing through, but the harder I pushed, the worse I felt.
I eventually gave up trying to get things done. Midway through the afternoon I finally came to a point of surrender. I surrendered my plans for the day, admitted my weakness, and the how my simplest plans are beyond my ability.
As I did this, I began to realize how many other areas in my life are out of my control. Stresses bubbled to the surface, and I gave them over to God. I began to realize how much I was carrying, and how much I try to control. I’m much weaker than I like to admit, and I carry more than I should. It’s good that I want to work hard and get things done; it’s bad that I forget that I’m weak, and that I carry anxieties I should have handed over to him a long time ago.
I love these words from Beloved Dust:
It was in prayer that I came not only to embrace my finitude, but to celebrate it, and rest in the truth that the Creator of the universe was with me. I came to celebrate the truth that I wasn’t God, but indeed I was known by God. In many ways, it was a violent lesson for me. I wrestled with God to maintain the delusion that I was in control of my life. By his grace God wounded me so that I might learn that limping with him in my finitude was better than running on my own.
On Monday I came to see my finitude. In prayer I began to celebrate it, and to find grace in my weakness. I’m weak and not in control, and that drives me to the one who’s strong and sovereign, and gracious enough to call me son.
I still wish I hadn’t been sick on Monday, but I’m sure grateful for the lessons he taught me. I embrace my weakness, so that I run to him.