Maybe this understanding comes easier to the powerless, to whom unworthiness must be more familiar. This puts me at a distinct disadvantage. I live in the wealthiest nation on earth during history’s most prosperous period thus far. I’m a member of the economically favored class, race, and gender. I’m healthy, capable, and educated. I have an iPod. I’m about as far as anyone could be from weakness or vulnerability. In light of all this, it’s a wonder God lets me draw near at all.
But God hasn’t left me completely without tools for understanding my true place. I have weaknesses. There are things that I cry out for God to take away. But in His wisdom He doesn’t take them away. He understands the danger. The possibility that I, stripped of my weakness, would never again feel my need for Him. That I’d never find occasion to turn to Him in the absence of my pain.
So my failings are God’s gifts, the evidence of his graciousness in my life. They anchor me from turning into a completely self-involved, useless ball of pride.
When I want to draw near to God, it’s to my weaknesses I must turn, not my strengths. I can never approach Him in light of my abilities, impressive though they may be to anyone else. If I claim to be an artist, He responds that he paints the skies each evening. If I claim facility with language, He responds that he created each tongue, even the ones I’ll never learn. Nothing I bring impresses him. But my weakness showcases His glory, and it’s to Him alone that I can turn.
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