The Glory Of Our Weakness
Sermon
The Glory Of Our Weakness
Sermons With Children's Lessons For Lent And Easter
A Baptist minister and a Catholic priest were playing golf one day, and the minister noticed that before every putt, the priest would cross himself. After nine holes, the priest was nine strokes ahead, so the minister asked if it would be all right if he crossed himself, too. 'Sure, go ahead,' the priest replied, 'but it won ït do you any good until you learn how to putt.'
That little story says something about the way we value self-reliance in our culture. 'God helps those who help themselves' -- Benjamin Franklin said that, though most Americans probably think it is in the Bible! 'You ïve got to learn to stand on your own two feet; no one ïs going to hand you anything on a silver platter!' Our language is full of aphorisms like that which underlie a harsh truth: we live in a society which treasures strength and self-sufficiency while detesting weakness and dependency. 'Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps like I did, and don ït come crying to me, telling me your bootstraps are broken!'
In fact, don ït cry about anything, lest someone accuse you of being weak. Do you remember what happened to Edmund Muskie and Patricia Schroeder? They both ran for president, he in 1972 and she in 1988, and they both made the mistake of crying in public. Their credibility as candidates, with the press and public, was gone in an instant.
In hundreds of ways we can see every day, our culture abhors weakness. We are all supposed to be John or Jane Wayne, always strong enough to look out for ourselves and not needing anyone else in the process. But Christians know that John Wayne was Hollywood, and that in the real world, we are not always so strong. Sometimes we are weak and feel totally inadequate to the challenge before us. Sometimes the deluge of life ïs difficulties threatens to drown us in the floodwaters of despair, and we fear we are going under. There is no shame in admitting that! It is part of being human.
There was once a man named Moses, who showed that even someone with great courage and strength can know his weakness as well.
He was living a rather ordinary life at the time. True, he had been through a harrowing adventure as an infant â born of an oppressed race and destined for deprivation or death, his mother had taken him out of her run-down Harlem tenement into a posh Westchester County suburb and left him floating in a basket in a wealthy family ïs swimming pool, where the daughter of the president of the New York Stock Exchange found him and took him in.
And true, even though he had received all the material and educational advantages his adoptive family could give him, he had gone into hiding some years later after running afoul of the criminal justice system. He had killed a police officer during a riot which exploded in a pent-up, inchoate and collective rage after a young man who was pulled over for nothing more than 'DWB' (Driving While Black) died in police custody. The charges against Moses were inciting violence and first degree murder, I believe.
But now Moses was married and settled down, living in an obscure town in upstate New York and minding his own business. Minding his father-in-law ïs business, to be more precise. Moses was in a small office taking care of the payroll and accounts receivable so his father-in-law could be out drumming up new customers.
One day, Moses was off on his lunch hour, jogging his usual 2.3 miles through the park, when suddenly he saw before him a bush which was on fire but was not being consumed. That is to say, this bush was full of flames, but none of the leaves were burning!
That got his attention.
Moses stopped to investigate this pyrotechnical contradiction when the voice of God spoke from out of the bush: 'Moses, I have heard the voice of My people â they are groaning under the weight of their poverty and discrimination, and I have come to help them. I want you to go down to Washington and enter the office of the Pharaoh, and tell that man to let My people go.'
'Who am I,' Moses asked, 'that I could do such a thing? I am just a run-of-the mill payroll clerk in a small family business; how could I possibly be a match for Pharaoh? I don ït have the right clothes, the right connections â the Secret Service wouldn ït even let me in the front gate, never mind into Pharaoh ïs office! I ïm just not up to this, God; I think You picked the wrong man for the job.'
'It doesn ït matter who you are or what gifts you may have or lack. In fact, you don ït matter at all, Moses! All you have to know is that I shall be with you when you speak to Pharaoh for Me.'
'And who shall I say has sent me? When I tell my people that God has sent me to lead them to their long-awaited liberation, and they ask me who this God is, what shall I tell them?'
Moses looked down and saw a business card lying in front of the bush. It was embossed and glistened in the sunlight as he leaned down to pick it up, and there in plain black letters were printed the words, 'I am that I am.'
' ''I am that I am ï? Thanks a lot, God! I need a name that will impress my people and make them want to follow me. You know they are so flimsy and fickle that they could turn against me at any time. They are slaves who think like slaves -- and You want me to tell them Someone named ''I am ï has sent me to set them free?
'And while we ïre at it, what about Pharaoh and his people? Do You really think they will pay any heed to a God called ''I am ï? Why can ït Your name be ''Exterminator ï or ''Ultimate Destroyer ï -- maybe that would do something to get Pharaoh ïs attention! No, the mighty Pharaoh in Washington doesn ït respect weakness, God, and my knees will be knocking the whole time I am in his presence. I really wish You would find someone else to do this.'
Moses felt inadequate to the challenge before him and looked for every possible way to excuse himself from it. Yet when God revealed His name to Moses, He told Moses all he needed to know: 'I am that I am.' God is who God is, and because God is, we don ït have to be all we think we have to be.
You see, when Moses or any of us tell God we are weak and incapable, we aren ït telling God anything He doesn ït already know! When we confess our frailty and finitude, we aren ït exactly bringing a hot news flash to the ears of the Almighty! 'It doesn ït matter that you feel unequipped or overwhelmed,' God said to Moses. 'What matters is: My name is ''I am, ï and I will be there with you.'
The apostle Paul gives much the same message in our second text from Romans. The powers, principalities, and pressures of life may sap our strength and steal our courage, but they can never defeat us because 'the Spirit helps us in our weakness.' When we feel frightened and discouraged, unable to keep up in the contest of life ïs arena, that is precisely when God hears our cries as they rise to heaven and comes to help us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am a parent trying to raise my children in a fallen and frightening world. Sometimes I feel helpless in the face of everything out there which would lead my precious ones astray. From beer companies to peer pressure, from drugs to dropouts, from sellers of cigarettes and sneakers to peddlers of pornography and violence, there are so many demons out there trying to get their ''hooks ï into my babies! And even if I can teach them to make the right choices and choose the right priorities in life, how can I feel good about the kind of world they will grow up to inherit? Where will I get the wisdom and guidance to raise my children today, when it seems that despite my best efforts, the siren songs of those who would seduce them are so stubborn and strong?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am aged and trying to live each day with dignity and grace. But I find it increasingly difficult to take care of myself, to do the simple things I once took for granted. I wonder how long my health will hold out, and how long I will be able to live in my home. I wonder how many losses of friends and loved ones I can endure before the loneliness overwhelms me. At a time in life when I need stability and security, I am facing more instability and difficult decisions than ever before. Where will I find the strength and stamina to survive my golden years?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am in business, trying to provide for my family and make my way up in this company. My boss just called me in and told me she wants to give me a promotion, putting me in charge of the whole region. I realize I should be happy for this opportunity â
so many people I once worked with have been 'downsized ï and ''outsourced, ï and I know good jobs are guaranteed to no one these days. Still, I wonder if I should do this. It would mean more money, which my family can surely use, but it would also mean I would be away from home even more than I already am. Right now I feel I have missed so much as my children grow up -- why must I be made to choose between career and family? My boss says she needs my answer by tomorrow. Where will I find the courage to make the right decision?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
How does God do it? Speaking in very concrete and specific terms, how does the Spirit help us in our weakness, when we face these and so many other dilemmas in life? The answer is: God helps us in more ways than we can imagine.
When you are a minister and the telephone rings in your home, you never know what the voice at the other end will say. From suicides to psychiatric breakdowns, from sudden deaths to domestic violence, I have been called into almost every situation you can think of, to be with people and families who are staring at the abyss and peering into the heart of darkness.
What do you think about saying as you rush to answer these emergency calls? What words will you offer; what sentiments will you express? How could anyone know the right words to say?
To be honest, I have never had a clue what to say. As I rush to the scene, I am acutely aware of my weakness and complete inadequacy. I know I am not at all equipped to be Christ ïs representative in the tragic, traumatic situations I am about to enter.
But then, when I am in the situation face to face, the words come out. Words which touch and heal, words which give hope and put painful problems in spiritual perspective. I know they don ït come from me, for I know how frail and flawed I really am. In fact, I believe it doesn ït even matter that I am there -- what matters is that God is there -- and that God can use any of His weak and inadequate servants to do what He did and said what He said in the midst of those crisis situations.
I dare say that you, too, have had experiences like that, where you were able to share the right word or gesture with someone else because it was given to you from somewhere beyond yourself. The next time it happens, be thankful for it! Remember how utterly inadequate you were, and recognize that this is one way God helps you in your weakness.
God also helps us by sending other people to be with us in moments of critical need. What happens when someone we know is faced with a medical crisis of some other shattering calamity? Do not friends gather around, offering to help in any way they can? What happens during unexpected disasters like plane crashes or earthquakes, fires, or floods? Solidarity displaces solitude. Strangers come together in an extraordinary spirit of sharing and selflessness which people rarely demonstrate during the regular course of normal daily living.
What is all this but God helping us in our weakness? It is God putting into people ïs hearts the desire to be present for others and rush to them with aid. The next time you are in a difficult situation and you see family and friends gathering around you, calling and visiting, sending cards and offering prayers for you, understand that this is another way God helps us at a moment in life when we are weak and needy.
'The Spirit helps us in our weakness â [interceding for us] with sighs too deep for words.' Sometimes there are no words to say or people to gather around us. Sometimes none of that is enough to reach the depth of our need. Yet even then, amid the silence and spiritual seclusion, God has ways of helping us in our weakness.
The story is told of a man whose little daughter was in the hospital, dying of leukemia. Daily he would visit her; on some days she was stronger than others, but her decline was irreversible.
Her birthday came around, and her father came into the hospital with a cake. As he turned the corner, he almost bumped into a nurse who was coming out of the chapel. He had been in that chapel many times before, a small room with a dozen chairs and a life-sized portrait of Christ on the wall. 'How is my daughter?' he asked the nurse. She waited a long moment before she replied, 'Oh, I guess you haven ït heard. She ïs taken a turn for the worse.'
Handing the cake to the nurse, he sprinted to his daughter ïs room, but it was too late. She was dead. Numbly, he sat there as the hours went by. People came and went, trying to offer words of comfort, but he didn ït see them or hear what they said.
Finally, he got up to go home, and passing by the chapel, he stopped in. There was the birthday cake, with his daughter ïs name on it, sitting on a chair where the nurse had left it. He picked it up and pondered the absurdity of all that had happened.
Suddenly, blinded by his tears, he threw the cake at the picture of Christ, hitting Him right on the face. 'Oh no, what have I done?' he thought to himself. 'What blasphemy have I committed?' Then, through his tears, it seemed that the figure of Christ just stood there, allowing the cake to slide down His face. For a moment, the man thought he saw tears rolling down Christ ïs cheeks. The man felt as if the Scriptures were coming alive and speaking just to him: '[Christ] committed no sin â When they hurled their insults at him, He did not retaliate; when He suffered, He made no threats' (1 Peter 2:22-23, NIV).
In some unexplained way, the man felt at peace. He felt that the heart of Christ was broken in sympathy for him. Mind you: no words were expressed -- this man ïs anguish and sighs were too deep for words -- but God was there, in the Spirit of His Son, Jesus, interceding for him and helping him in his weakness.1
Sometimes our illusions of strength and self-sufficiency are stripped away by things which happen to us in life, and we come face to face with our abiding need for God. At that moment, we find the glory of our weakness. We find that our weakness has truly blessed us by bringing us closer to God (Matthew 5:3).
When our cup is full, what can be added to it? Only when our cup is empty can God pour into it the living water of His love. Only when our spirits are punctured and deflated can God pump into us the renewing spirit of His succor and strength.
It says something beautiful and reassuring about the world in which people of faith live. When things are going fine, and we are filled with strength and vigor, we give thanks to God for our blessings and bounty. And when life ïs cruel blows rain down upon us, leaving us weak and needy, we still give thanks to God for blessing us with His presence and peace. Either way, we cannot lose. God is that God is. God hears our cries, even our sighs too deep for words, and He comes to help us in our weakness. Amen.
1.
This story was originally told by Peter De Vries in his book, The Blood of the Lamb, and has since been recounted in several anthologies of sermon illustrations.
Pastoral Prayer
O Good and Gracious God, whose strength is both an awesome wonder and a tender word, we give You thanks today for our weakness, which draws us closer to You. Remove from us the conceit of believing we must be up to the challenge of every occasion. Teach us to rely less on our own devices and more on Your devoted love. When the odds against us seem long, remind us that You are strong. When we are tired and frustrated and ready to shed a helpless tear, remind us all that You are near. O God, help us to live more faithfully within the embrace of Your Spirit, that even in our moments of weakness and doubt, when our sighs are too deep for words, we may behold Your glory, receive Your grace, and praise Your holy name. We pray in Jesus ï name, who taught us to say together, 'Our Father â' Amen.
That little story says something about the way we value self-reliance in our culture. 'God helps those who help themselves' -- Benjamin Franklin said that, though most Americans probably think it is in the Bible! 'You ïve got to learn to stand on your own two feet; no one ïs going to hand you anything on a silver platter!' Our language is full of aphorisms like that which underlie a harsh truth: we live in a society which treasures strength and self-sufficiency while detesting weakness and dependency. 'Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps like I did, and don ït come crying to me, telling me your bootstraps are broken!'
In fact, don ït cry about anything, lest someone accuse you of being weak. Do you remember what happened to Edmund Muskie and Patricia Schroeder? They both ran for president, he in 1972 and she in 1988, and they both made the mistake of crying in public. Their credibility as candidates, with the press and public, was gone in an instant.
In hundreds of ways we can see every day, our culture abhors weakness. We are all supposed to be John or Jane Wayne, always strong enough to look out for ourselves and not needing anyone else in the process. But Christians know that John Wayne was Hollywood, and that in the real world, we are not always so strong. Sometimes we are weak and feel totally inadequate to the challenge before us. Sometimes the deluge of life ïs difficulties threatens to drown us in the floodwaters of despair, and we fear we are going under. There is no shame in admitting that! It is part of being human.
There was once a man named Moses, who showed that even someone with great courage and strength can know his weakness as well.
He was living a rather ordinary life at the time. True, he had been through a harrowing adventure as an infant â born of an oppressed race and destined for deprivation or death, his mother had taken him out of her run-down Harlem tenement into a posh Westchester County suburb and left him floating in a basket in a wealthy family ïs swimming pool, where the daughter of the president of the New York Stock Exchange found him and took him in.
And true, even though he had received all the material and educational advantages his adoptive family could give him, he had gone into hiding some years later after running afoul of the criminal justice system. He had killed a police officer during a riot which exploded in a pent-up, inchoate and collective rage after a young man who was pulled over for nothing more than 'DWB' (Driving While Black) died in police custody. The charges against Moses were inciting violence and first degree murder, I believe.
But now Moses was married and settled down, living in an obscure town in upstate New York and minding his own business. Minding his father-in-law ïs business, to be more precise. Moses was in a small office taking care of the payroll and accounts receivable so his father-in-law could be out drumming up new customers.
One day, Moses was off on his lunch hour, jogging his usual 2.3 miles through the park, when suddenly he saw before him a bush which was on fire but was not being consumed. That is to say, this bush was full of flames, but none of the leaves were burning!
That got his attention.
Moses stopped to investigate this pyrotechnical contradiction when the voice of God spoke from out of the bush: 'Moses, I have heard the voice of My people â they are groaning under the weight of their poverty and discrimination, and I have come to help them. I want you to go down to Washington and enter the office of the Pharaoh, and tell that man to let My people go.'
'Who am I,' Moses asked, 'that I could do such a thing? I am just a run-of-the mill payroll clerk in a small family business; how could I possibly be a match for Pharaoh? I don ït have the right clothes, the right connections â the Secret Service wouldn ït even let me in the front gate, never mind into Pharaoh ïs office! I ïm just not up to this, God; I think You picked the wrong man for the job.'
'It doesn ït matter who you are or what gifts you may have or lack. In fact, you don ït matter at all, Moses! All you have to know is that I shall be with you when you speak to Pharaoh for Me.'
'And who shall I say has sent me? When I tell my people that God has sent me to lead them to their long-awaited liberation, and they ask me who this God is, what shall I tell them?'
Moses looked down and saw a business card lying in front of the bush. It was embossed and glistened in the sunlight as he leaned down to pick it up, and there in plain black letters were printed the words, 'I am that I am.'
' ''I am that I am ï? Thanks a lot, God! I need a name that will impress my people and make them want to follow me. You know they are so flimsy and fickle that they could turn against me at any time. They are slaves who think like slaves -- and You want me to tell them Someone named ''I am ï has sent me to set them free?
'And while we ïre at it, what about Pharaoh and his people? Do You really think they will pay any heed to a God called ''I am ï? Why can ït Your name be ''Exterminator ï or ''Ultimate Destroyer ï -- maybe that would do something to get Pharaoh ïs attention! No, the mighty Pharaoh in Washington doesn ït respect weakness, God, and my knees will be knocking the whole time I am in his presence. I really wish You would find someone else to do this.'
Moses felt inadequate to the challenge before him and looked for every possible way to excuse himself from it. Yet when God revealed His name to Moses, He told Moses all he needed to know: 'I am that I am.' God is who God is, and because God is, we don ït have to be all we think we have to be.
You see, when Moses or any of us tell God we are weak and incapable, we aren ït telling God anything He doesn ït already know! When we confess our frailty and finitude, we aren ït exactly bringing a hot news flash to the ears of the Almighty! 'It doesn ït matter that you feel unequipped or overwhelmed,' God said to Moses. 'What matters is: My name is ''I am, ï and I will be there with you.'
The apostle Paul gives much the same message in our second text from Romans. The powers, principalities, and pressures of life may sap our strength and steal our courage, but they can never defeat us because 'the Spirit helps us in our weakness.' When we feel frightened and discouraged, unable to keep up in the contest of life ïs arena, that is precisely when God hears our cries as they rise to heaven and comes to help us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am a parent trying to raise my children in a fallen and frightening world. Sometimes I feel helpless in the face of everything out there which would lead my precious ones astray. From beer companies to peer pressure, from drugs to dropouts, from sellers of cigarettes and sneakers to peddlers of pornography and violence, there are so many demons out there trying to get their ''hooks ï into my babies! And even if I can teach them to make the right choices and choose the right priorities in life, how can I feel good about the kind of world they will grow up to inherit? Where will I get the wisdom and guidance to raise my children today, when it seems that despite my best efforts, the siren songs of those who would seduce them are so stubborn and strong?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am aged and trying to live each day with dignity and grace. But I find it increasingly difficult to take care of myself, to do the simple things I once took for granted. I wonder how long my health will hold out, and how long I will be able to live in my home. I wonder how many losses of friends and loved ones I can endure before the loneliness overwhelms me. At a time in life when I need stability and security, I am facing more instability and difficult decisions than ever before. Where will I find the strength and stamina to survive my golden years?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
'Lord, I am in business, trying to provide for my family and make my way up in this company. My boss just called me in and told me she wants to give me a promotion, putting me in charge of the whole region. I realize I should be happy for this opportunity â
so many people I once worked with have been 'downsized ï and ''outsourced, ï and I know good jobs are guaranteed to no one these days. Still, I wonder if I should do this. It would mean more money, which my family can surely use, but it would also mean I would be away from home even more than I already am. Right now I feel I have missed so much as my children grow up -- why must I be made to choose between career and family? My boss says she needs my answer by tomorrow. Where will I find the courage to make the right decision?'
The Spirit helps us in our weakness.
How does God do it? Speaking in very concrete and specific terms, how does the Spirit help us in our weakness, when we face these and so many other dilemmas in life? The answer is: God helps us in more ways than we can imagine.
When you are a minister and the telephone rings in your home, you never know what the voice at the other end will say. From suicides to psychiatric breakdowns, from sudden deaths to domestic violence, I have been called into almost every situation you can think of, to be with people and families who are staring at the abyss and peering into the heart of darkness.
What do you think about saying as you rush to answer these emergency calls? What words will you offer; what sentiments will you express? How could anyone know the right words to say?
To be honest, I have never had a clue what to say. As I rush to the scene, I am acutely aware of my weakness and complete inadequacy. I know I am not at all equipped to be Christ ïs representative in the tragic, traumatic situations I am about to enter.
But then, when I am in the situation face to face, the words come out. Words which touch and heal, words which give hope and put painful problems in spiritual perspective. I know they don ït come from me, for I know how frail and flawed I really am. In fact, I believe it doesn ït even matter that I am there -- what matters is that God is there -- and that God can use any of His weak and inadequate servants to do what He did and said what He said in the midst of those crisis situations.
I dare say that you, too, have had experiences like that, where you were able to share the right word or gesture with someone else because it was given to you from somewhere beyond yourself. The next time it happens, be thankful for it! Remember how utterly inadequate you were, and recognize that this is one way God helps you in your weakness.
God also helps us by sending other people to be with us in moments of critical need. What happens when someone we know is faced with a medical crisis of some other shattering calamity? Do not friends gather around, offering to help in any way they can? What happens during unexpected disasters like plane crashes or earthquakes, fires, or floods? Solidarity displaces solitude. Strangers come together in an extraordinary spirit of sharing and selflessness which people rarely demonstrate during the regular course of normal daily living.
What is all this but God helping us in our weakness? It is God putting into people ïs hearts the desire to be present for others and rush to them with aid. The next time you are in a difficult situation and you see family and friends gathering around you, calling and visiting, sending cards and offering prayers for you, understand that this is another way God helps us at a moment in life when we are weak and needy.
'The Spirit helps us in our weakness â [interceding for us] with sighs too deep for words.' Sometimes there are no words to say or people to gather around us. Sometimes none of that is enough to reach the depth of our need. Yet even then, amid the silence and spiritual seclusion, God has ways of helping us in our weakness.
The story is told of a man whose little daughter was in the hospital, dying of leukemia. Daily he would visit her; on some days she was stronger than others, but her decline was irreversible.
Her birthday came around, and her father came into the hospital with a cake. As he turned the corner, he almost bumped into a nurse who was coming out of the chapel. He had been in that chapel many times before, a small room with a dozen chairs and a life-sized portrait of Christ on the wall. 'How is my daughter?' he asked the nurse. She waited a long moment before she replied, 'Oh, I guess you haven ït heard. She ïs taken a turn for the worse.'
Handing the cake to the nurse, he sprinted to his daughter ïs room, but it was too late. She was dead. Numbly, he sat there as the hours went by. People came and went, trying to offer words of comfort, but he didn ït see them or hear what they said.
Finally, he got up to go home, and passing by the chapel, he stopped in. There was the birthday cake, with his daughter ïs name on it, sitting on a chair where the nurse had left it. He picked it up and pondered the absurdity of all that had happened.
Suddenly, blinded by his tears, he threw the cake at the picture of Christ, hitting Him right on the face. 'Oh no, what have I done?' he thought to himself. 'What blasphemy have I committed?' Then, through his tears, it seemed that the figure of Christ just stood there, allowing the cake to slide down His face. For a moment, the man thought he saw tears rolling down Christ ïs cheeks. The man felt as if the Scriptures were coming alive and speaking just to him: '[Christ] committed no sin â When they hurled their insults at him, He did not retaliate; when He suffered, He made no threats' (1 Peter 2:22-23, NIV).
In some unexplained way, the man felt at peace. He felt that the heart of Christ was broken in sympathy for him. Mind you: no words were expressed -- this man ïs anguish and sighs were too deep for words -- but God was there, in the Spirit of His Son, Jesus, interceding for him and helping him in his weakness.1
Sometimes our illusions of strength and self-sufficiency are stripped away by things which happen to us in life, and we come face to face with our abiding need for God. At that moment, we find the glory of our weakness. We find that our weakness has truly blessed us by bringing us closer to God (Matthew 5:3).
When our cup is full, what can be added to it? Only when our cup is empty can God pour into it the living water of His love. Only when our spirits are punctured and deflated can God pump into us the renewing spirit of His succor and strength.
It says something beautiful and reassuring about the world in which people of faith live. When things are going fine, and we are filled with strength and vigor, we give thanks to God for our blessings and bounty. And when life ïs cruel blows rain down upon us, leaving us weak and needy, we still give thanks to God for blessing us with His presence and peace. Either way, we cannot lose. God is that God is. God hears our cries, even our sighs too deep for words, and He comes to help us in our weakness. Amen.
1.
This story was originally told by Peter De Vries in his book, The Blood of the Lamb, and has since been recounted in several anthologies of sermon illustrations.
Pastoral Prayer
O Good and Gracious God, whose strength is both an awesome wonder and a tender word, we give You thanks today for our weakness, which draws us closer to You. Remove from us the conceit of believing we must be up to the challenge of every occasion. Teach us to rely less on our own devices and more on Your devoted love. When the odds against us seem long, remind us that You are strong. When we are tired and frustrated and ready to shed a helpless tear, remind us all that You are near. O God, help us to live more faithfully within the embrace of Your Spirit, that even in our moments of weakness and doubt, when our sighs are too deep for words, we may behold Your glory, receive Your grace, and praise Your holy name. We pray in Jesus ï name, who taught us to say together, 'Our Father â' Amen.
