“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2Cor.12:9). “We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us” (2Cor.4:7)
Lord Jesus, this morning as I meditate on these beloved verses, a few feelings are showing up even as I wake up. Among them are relief and sadness—along with joy and expectancy. As a young believer, I wasn’t taught to delight in my weaknesses, but to bemoan and get over them. It was all about “the victorious Christian life.” Overcoming—never underachieving. Being more than conquerors—never less than triumphant.
Thank you for rescuing us from many distortions of what it means to know, love, and serve you. The aroma of grace and the beauty of the Gospel are most clearly revealed through the broken and weak, humble and have-to-be-dependent places in our lives. You are “gentle and lowly,” not brash and bombastic. You emptied yourself of glory to fill us up with grace, and eventually share your glory with us (Phil.2:1-11). This is truly astonishing.
This is what we love about the “Cinderellas of March Madness”—the small, unlikely, under-monied college basketball teams beat highly favored, talent-loaded, NIL-financed opponents. There’s something beautiful—something “gospelicious” about watching interdependent, “everybody-on-the-bench-matters” teams win that resonates with us. That’s where my joy and expectancy come from this morning.
Velveteen Rabbits make the best friends, teammates, marriage partners, bosses and colleagues. Jesus, when we care about your glory more than ours—the success of the whole more than our personal kudos—when we smell more like weakness and kindness, than aloofness and drivenness … angels sing, you are honored, and … honestly, that’s all that really matters—that you, Jesus, are honored. So Very Amen.
