I can do all things...
- (part of) Philippians 4:13
- (part of) Philippians 4:13
Star Trek ran for 79 episodes. Not once
did a character say, "Beam me up, Scotty." Nor did Humphrey Bogart's
Rick ever say, "Play it again, Sam," in Casablanca. Both are commonly attributed to the originals. Neither is there.
Nowhere in scripture
is it written that God will never give you
(or allow) more that you can handle. We hear it all the time. And
it is as cliche as Beam me up Scotty.
The fact is God will
again and again allow us more than we can handle. (Stay with me, it get's
worse... then better!)
Paul wrote of his
struggles: For we were so utterly burdened
beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself (2 Corinthians
1:8). David writes much the same: I am
feeble and utterly crushed; I groan in anguish of heart (Psalm
38:8).
Ultimately, 11 of
the 12 disciples were martyred for their faith. The twelfth, John, was boiled
alive in oil (and lived), and then exiled - where by the way, he had the
incredible Revelation of Christ and wrote the letter of the same name.
I often face
circumstances, burdens and pain beyond what I can bear. Please re-read the very
last part of that statement: ...beyond
what I can bear.
There are two lies
born out of the statement, God will not
give you (or allow) more than you can handle. The first is
that YOU can handle it. You.
By yourself. You can and must be strong.
The truth is,
eventually you can't. There
must be WE. The life of faith
cannot be lived in isolation. Paul writes that we are to, bear one another's burdens (Galatians
6:2). When we cannot lift another's burdens, we must lift the person who
carries the burden. Christianity - and life as a whole - is to be lived in community; not in
isolation.
The second lie is
much like the first. It centers in the bearing of burdens. We are not human
pack-mules, destined to trudge through life weighed down. That is not the joy inexpressible and full of glory Peter
writes of (1 Peter 1:8); or the fullness
of joy of which Jesus speaks (John 15:11).
As a matter of fact
it was Jesus who said:
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden,
and I will give you rest... you will find rest for
your souls.
For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.
-- Matthew 11:28-30
(I told you it would
get better!)
I've often heard
well-intentioned people say, "That's just my cross to bear," in
speaking of a struggle or burden. But crosses are not for carrying. They are
for dying. And when we are daily, crucified
with Christ, as Paul wrote, we are also daily resurrected with him. It
is only the pains, the struggles, the burdens, and the sin that remain nailed
to the cross.
So... can I can do all things... Well, yes, but...
When we read Paul's words in context we understand he is speaking about the power of relying completely on Christ in faith. Even more specifically, he is speaking to the power and perspective that is birthed out of contentedness. This power is not necessarily to stop the storms of life, or to dance on top of the waves singing a happy tune.
Sometimes the power is to grab an oar and pull hard... to make one more stroke against the wind and waves. Yes, I believe Jesus can, and sometimes does stand up in the boat and calm the torrent with a word. But the callouses on my hands tell me he usually teaches me in a different way. And who knows, when my head is down and I am faithfully rowing with my last drops of strength, what greater waves or storms pass me by without my ever knowing?
Will God give or allow us to face more than we can handle? Maybe it's splitting hairs... but I'm going to say yes - alone, isolated, and in my own strength? Yes. But when I am driven to rely on the community of others, and to the feet of Jesus, NO. There is no valley too deep. There is no mountain too high. There is no storm too great.
So... can I can do all things... Well, yes, but...
When we read Paul's words in context we understand he is speaking about the power of relying completely on Christ in faith. Even more specifically, he is speaking to the power and perspective that is birthed out of contentedness. This power is not necessarily to stop the storms of life, or to dance on top of the waves singing a happy tune.
Sometimes the power is to grab an oar and pull hard... to make one more stroke against the wind and waves. Yes, I believe Jesus can, and sometimes does stand up in the boat and calm the torrent with a word. But the callouses on my hands tell me he usually teaches me in a different way. And who knows, when my head is down and I am faithfully rowing with my last drops of strength, what greater waves or storms pass me by without my ever knowing?
Will God give or allow us to face more than we can handle? Maybe it's splitting hairs... but I'm going to say yes - alone, isolated, and in my own strength? Yes. But when I am driven to rely on the community of others, and to the feet of Jesus, NO. There is no valley too deep. There is no mountain too high. There is no storm too great.
God, because you are
with me I can walk through any valley, I am ready for the storm.
For now...
D