My weakness is my strength.

I have nothing I can give Him. I can only receive.

I can try and try and try but my righteousness is nothing. Finally, exhausted, I throw my hands up and quit. Fine, I’ll let You love me.

I haven’t earned this love. In fact, I’ve earned the removal of it. Over and over again.

But it’s still there.

I exhale. Your love is still here.

I inhale. Still.

My weakness is my strength.

“Find here that which You are drawn to: a broken and a contrite heart,” the lyrics say.

My heart agrees.

As the storm rages within me and confusion settles in like a fog, my spirit looks this way and that, then withdraws from despair. Where are you, Peace?

He is still my anchor in the storm.

My feelings raise swords, daggers, and other metaphorical medieval weapons of warfare; my spirit feebly lifts her shield. No – she doesn’t even glance at her shield. She refocuses her gaze toward the horizon, searching for a distraction from the current battle.

None comes.

But as she cautiously lowers her gaze to the dark and dusty battlefield in front of her, her heart leaps and tears stream down her face at what she sees. He is there: her Prince of Peace.

And He sees straight through her.

How revolutionary it is for someone to see straight through you.

Confrontation is the opposite of distraction. She doesn’t want to be a coward anymore.

She staggers to sit upright and then crawls to Him. He is there in the middle of the battle. His mighty wings create a circumference of protection all around. Though the enemy cannot penetrate His shielded fort, she passes through effortlessly. Finally, within arms reach of Him, she collapses at His feet. He catches her.

He always does.

I don’t know, she whispers helplessly into the wind.

His silent confidence comforts her heart. She does nothing but lie in His arms. That’s all she has to do.

That’s all I ever have to do.

“Be still, my soul, be still. Wait patiently upon the Lord.” 🎶