Note from the wilderness

Close-up of crack in broken tire chock
 We don't think of ourselves as fragile. Especially as Christians. We're strong in the Lord, right? (Ephesians 6:10) Yet, over the whole span of scripture, we read of mighty people becoming broken so that they can serve God in amazing ways: Adam, afraid in his nakedness; Jacob, who wrestled with God, and limped always afterward; Abraham, whose health and vigor failed long before God granted him the promised son; the prophets who retreated to the wilderness to be fed by ravens as they had squandered their last bit of strength trying to carry God's message; the many people Jesus healed, the weakest, sickest, most shunned - the social misfits and pariah.

We are fragile. Sometimes we envision ourselves as warriors fit for battle, but there is always the thorn in the side (II Corinthians 12:7), the fact that God's greatness is made perfect in our weakness (II Corinthians 12:9).

This is a season of brokenness for me. I don't know what God has ahead. Frankly, I am too exhausted from the recent battles to even care much about what the future holds. I know He has a plan, and I'm sunk back in His arms just waiting for it to unfold. I am sure others who've struggled with depression know this feeling. Wishing there were heaven-sent ravens coming to feed you while you rest in the sand (I Kings 17:6).