“As humans who live in a broken world, we come to know weakness in the same way we come to know a new scar on our flesh; what is at first unfamiliar and new eventually becomes normal, consistent, even expected.”- Ann Swindell
In Chapter 2 (“When Waiting Makes You Weak”) of Still Waiting, Ann Swindell cites C. S. Lewis. As C. S. Lewis wrote in his essay “The Weight of
Glory,” a child experiences deep satisfaction in pleasing his/her father. Similarly, Lewis states, it’s the end delight of the redeemed soul to please “Him who she was delighted to please.”
However, when we come to know weakness, we can’t muscle our way through it , get tougher on ourselves, or try harder. Therefore, we fail when we see weakness as an obstacle to get around, push through, or ignore.
Furthermore, like Ann, we may feel a disconnect between what we know or learn about Jesus and the adversity or weakness we encounter every day. As Ms. Swindell observes, the weaknesses still present in her life tend to be less clear-cut than those of her teen years. Yet, they’re more potent.
Therefore, she still tries to hide or ignore them. Neither option works very well.
Thus, we can’t wriggle our way out of our brokenness, our weakness. And ignoring it doesn’t magically make it go away.
In conclusion, Ann states that all of us – from the oldest person alive to a baby drawing its first breath – know weakness. Of course, we know weakness in various gradations. But, whether we come to experience physical, familial, or emotional, it catches us unaware. Weakness sends us groping in the dark. Coming to know weakness starts forcing us to the edge of ourselves.
Today’s question: How has coming to know weakness in a broken world brought you to the edge of yourself? Please share.
Tomorrow’s blog: “The road of weakness leads straight into waiting”
