Where Strength Begins
Well, friend, look at you makin’ your way up this ol’ path like you’re bringin’ half of all the sunshine with you. Why don’t you mosey on over and plop yourself down on this ol’ front porch swing? The Lord’s got somethin’ today that’s richer than a crock of fresh churned butter sittin’ on a farmhouse table. The breeze is driftin’ through these sweetgum branches over here like it’s tryin’ to deliver the county’s top‑secret news, and a bossy ol’ woodpecker is over yonder tappin’ on that there fence post like it’s conductin’ an investigation. Meanwhile, a pudgy ol’ possum is waddlin’ near the back of the shed actin’ like it owns the deed to the whole property, and a skittish lil’ ol’ rabbit keeps pokin’ its head out from behind the feed barrel like it’s waitin’ for somethin’. Watchin’ all the whole of that critter commotion reminds me of 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”
Paul knew somethin’ about weakness. He wrote in Philippians 4:12‑13 that he had learned how to be abased and how to abound, how to be full and how to be hungry, how to suffer need and how to thrive. He said, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” That just wasn’t just a slogan. It was a lived truth carved into his soul through hardship he had gone through.
Paul talked about a thorn in the flesh, somethin’ that plum poked at him the way briars poke at your ankles when you walk through a thicket. He asked God three times to remove it, but God didn’t do it. Instead, God gave him grace to endure it. Romans 5:3‑4 says, “We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance, and perseverance, character, and character, hope.” That there means God uses the very things that weaken us to strengthen us.
I once heard a rancher say he had learned more about God’s strength from watchin’ an ol’ three‑legged barn cat than from any sermon. That cat didn’t move fast, but it moved steady. It had learned how to lean, how to balance, how to trust the ground beneath it. And friend, if a lil’ ol’ barn cat can learn to walk with what it lacks, surely we can be learnin’ to lean on God with whatever it is that we lack.
If you’re feelin’ like you’re in a moment of weakness that God isn’t fixin’, why don’t you consider imitatin’ Paul. Instead of howlin’ at the moon like a sick ol’ coyote, just rely on His grace. Let His strength be restin’ on you like a warm goose down quilt on a real cold winter night.
Father, teach me to lean on Your grace when I’m weak. Help me trust Your strength, rest in Your promises, and walk steady even when life feels heavy. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Alright then, friend, as you git to risin’ and leavin’ from this porch and headin’ on back down that dusty path over there, carry this truth with you the way a hard-workin’ gardener carries a bucket of cool water on a scorchin’ day. Weakness ain’t no dead end. It’s a doorway. When you hand your frailty to God, He plum turns it into somethin’ sturdy enough to hold you upright. And just like a slow‑movin’ creek wears down boulders over time, His grace will shape your life in ways your strength never could do it. Now go on out there, friend. Be mindin’ them unruly critters, be watchin’ your steps, and be lettin’ His strength do the heavy liftin’ for you today and every day.
With joy,
Gwen
