Weak, Stretched Thin, and Out of Your Depth

“Hey Soul? Yeah, I hear you — there’s times you feel stretched way too thin, in way over your head. 
So every time you feel that stress rising today, just take a moment & take a deep breath —- and just be. Just Be Still — and know & feel & trust how He is God. 
Being weak makes you a cup for God’s power. 
Being stretched thin, makes you a canvas for God’s glory.
Being out of your depths, makes you touch the depths of the love of God. 
#Exhale #BeStill #GodHasGotThis#PreachingGospeltoMyself” (Ann Voskamp).

I know what it feels like to be stretched thin and out of my depth. I know back in the day, I probably would have panicked big-time and not done very well with it. Now, I still get anxious, but I’m learning how to work through worry instead of being consumed by it.

I love the analogy of an archer pulling back on the bow to shoot an arrow. He pulls and pulls as the bow thinks it can not possibly be stretched any further, yet still he stretches more and more. Finally, he sets his sights on the target and lets loose.

God is stretching you and me for a future and a target that only He can see right now. At the moment, the stretching may feel unbearable and you’d rather have it over. It’s tempting to want to take a shortcut to get out of being that uncomfortable. But staying in it rather than bolting is worth it. You have the satisfaction of knowing God will honor your obedience and you can see with eyes of faith that the end will make any hardships seem light and momentary.

Being weak and out of your depth is a place God often calls His children. That’s where God loves to show up. It’s the kind of testimony that is the best, because no human explanation will do. It’s a life that can only be explained in terms of God. We make God famous most of all by being faithful when it would be easier to quit.

The Condescension of God

con·de·scen·sion

 [kon-duhsen-shuhn]  Show IPA

noun

1.

an act or instance of condescending.
2.

behavior that is patronizing or condescending.
3.

voluntary assumption of equality with a person regarded as inferior.
Ok, for the purposes of this blog, forget #1 and #2. Put them out of your mind. I want to focus on #3. Because that’s what God did for us.
Let me explain.
This is the God of whom Isaiah wrote, “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
This God would be completely unknowable unless He had first chosen to reveal Himself to us. He would have remained completely incomprehensible unless He had chosen to reveal His nature and His character. And  He didn’t get all high and mighty with us or look down His celestial nose at us. He looked at us with pity and compassion. But mostly with love.
Truly, this God is not like one of us, only bigger, stronger, faster. He is not the ultimate $6 million dollar man. He is holy, set apart, wholly other.
Jesus is the ultimate example of God’s condescension to man. He who was infinitely higher than we could ever hope or aspire to be, voluntarily assumed equality with those who were His inferiors, i.e. us. He became one of us. Or as Paul puts it in Philippians,
Though He was in the form of God,
    He chose not to cling to equality with God;
But He poured Himself out to fill a vessel brand new;
    a servant in form
    and a man indeed.
The very likeness of humanity,
He humbled Himself,
    obedient to death—
    a merciless death on the cross!
So God raised Him up to the highest place
    and gave Him the name above all.
So when His name is called,
    every knee will bow,
    in heaven, on earth, and below.
And every tongue will confess
    ‘Jesus, the Anointed One, is Lord,’
    to the glory of God our Father!”
I’m thankful that when I couldn’t get to God, He came to me. I’m grateful that it wasn’t me who found God, but rather it was He who found me. He wasn’t lost. I was. I’m mostly glad that He didn’t (and doesn’t) leave me where He found me but constantly makes me a little bit more like Jesus every day.
So, yeah, I suppose I do like that word condescension now.