But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.
-2 Corinthians 4:7
|Ophelia by J.W. Waterhouse|
Foolish me. I'm not meant to be alone. Even in the best of worlds, I am only a creature. And this is not the best of worlds-- it's bent by sin. Left to myself I'll run straight off the path, thanks to the sin within, and my day can brim with hurdles and frustrations thanks to the sin without. I need help!
In my physical struggles I have heard, however faintly, God's voice. What is He telling me? Just that: I need help. It's an inherent part of who I am. I like to forget it, to pretend that I live by my own strength, but God reminds me.
When I have to take Benadryl just to get to sleep. When I feel as if I live with a bottle of moisturizer glued to my hand. When I can't scrub away, paint over, or in any way obliterate the blemishes on my face. He reminds me. It's impossible to maintain the pretense of independence while I rely on a cold washcloth to keep me sane, or tremble at the thought of a campfire because I know that the dry heat will aggravate the inflammation. Yes, I am quite frail. Can I accept that? I'm trying. God is working acceptance in me.