When you read that quote, what do you think about? Not knowing my readers I'm guessing that most people fall somewhere in the nice sentiment range, peaking at around I-try-to-live-like-this and ending about this-is-a-little-hooky. Right?
You know what I feel when I read that? Kinda stupid. The last while my faith has been, in the approximate words of Cynthia Kavanaugh, "stretched to it's limits so that it's limits can expand", except that I'm not sure my limits are expanding very well. I need the spiritual equivalent of that cream pregnant women rub on their gargantuan bellies the last few days of pregnancy. Forget standing before God as an empty vessel, having poured it all out for him, I'm pretty near the bottom now and, despite a predilection for horrible habits such as eating three meals in one sitting and then not eating for two days, or bad sleeping cycles, I'm looking like I'm going to last a while and I need supplies for the journey.
And the angel of the Lord came again the second time, and touched him, and said, Arise and eat; because the journey is too great for thee. 1 Kings 19:7
Because the journey is too great for me. It IS too great for me, I know it. I know that not only can I not do it alone, I can't do it even surrounded by helping friends, family and a greater, mainly good society. In fact, if every wonderful person combined together to help me on my way, even, say, Mother Theresa, Billy Graham, faithful missionaries, widows and orphans, prisoners for the faith, my fellow saints, the journey would still be too great for me. Only God can lift me up to help me walk, and carry me when the going gets tough, and remind me to eat and sleep and play with my son and smile at people. The journey is a hard one, friends.
1 comment:
Sometimes I need that reassurance. There is a sweet comfort in knowing that I can't do it alone. Some people may feel inferior by it but I feel safer - protected by that security net.
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