At the End of Your Rope

hang on

There’s a cliche that goes something like this: when you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot in it and hang on. Apparently, according to various internet sources, this quote has been attributed to Franklin D. Roosevelt, Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln. I’m a little skeptical about any of those actually having said that.

There is some truth to that. If it were me, I’d probably phrase it like this: when you come to the end of you, you come to the beginning of God and His mercies.

When you come to the point when you realize that you bring nothing to the table, that you really are poor in spirit (as the first Beatitude states), and that you don’t have it in you, then you can declare your declaration of dependence on God and find out how strong He really is.

There’s another cliche that may be overused but only because it’s true: you never know how much you have in God until He’s all that you have. Or something like that.

I think sometimes, God deliberately brings us to places where we are grossly inadequate to show how sufficient He really is. The whole notion of God never giving us more than we can handle? I don’t buy it. I think if God never gave us more than we could manage, we’d always maintain the illusion of self-sufficiency. And by the way, the verse doesn’t say God doesn’t give us more than we can handle. It says He never allows us to be tempted beyond what we’re able to bear. There’s a difference.

But once you’re at the end of your proverbial rope, you do find that it’s a good place to be because it’s there that you really and truly see God. It’s when you can find out how strong He is to save those who cry out in desperation to Him day and night. Especially if you’re one of those ones crying out.

I personally would rather be able to read someone else’s sob story and be able to say, “Lesson learned.” But if I’m honest, I know that some lessons are best learned in the dark and hard places and some of the sweetest experiences with God only come out of trials and tribulations.

 

Another prayer from Henri Nouwen (with my own commentary added)

“I pray tonight for all who witness for you in this world: ministers, priests, and bishops, men and women who have dedicated their lives to you, and all those who try to bring the light of the Gospel into the darkness of this age. Give them courage, strength, perseverance, and hope; fill their hearts and minds with the knowledge of your presence, and let them experience your name as their refuge from all dangers. Most of all, give them the joy of your Spirit, so that wherever they go and whomever they meet they will remove the veil of depression, fatalism, and defeatism and will bring new life to the many who live in constant fear of death. Lord, be with all who bring the Good News. Amen.” (Henri Nouwen)

As the old saying goes (or maybe a new one that I just made up), when you can’t think of anything original, borrow and steal from smarter people than you. Actually, this prayer of Henri Nouwen’s is my prayer, said better than I could ever say it on my own, for my friends who are going out and making disciples of all nations, starting in Nashville and ending up in the uttermost parts of the earth. You inspire me to want to do a lot more than I’m doing right now.

Who knows what God has in store for me or you or anyone? I’ve learned that whatever it is, it’s usually way different than what we thought it would be, and way better. So go with it. Jesus calls us to die every day to our rights and desires and dreams and hopes, so that we can live in God’s greater dream for us. As Oswald Chambers wrote, “Trust God and do the next thing.”

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.