Sown In Weakness, Raised In Power

I often ask myself why I am consumed with weakness. Not only me however. Why are Christians placed by God to live like the Lord Jesus, plagued with almost crushing fragility?

It seems to be God’s way to posture us toward dependence. He sows me in weakness so He can raise me in power.

How to orient myself toward the resurrection might of the God of a billion galaxies is quite another story, however. When faced with ever present burdens, the consciousness of my own sin as well as the sin of others, I have to look up because to find a way out of countless massive dilemmas must be of God and not of us.

Looking up when we are in pain below is a choice; it’s a choice of faith.

There are precious few who live in expectancy to be raised in power. There are few who glory in their infirmities. There are few to whom I can look for an example, expecting to see a mighty anticipation of resurrection power.

We are a sad lot of whimpering Christians, we are. The God who calls things that are not as though they are, is sidelined by us, displaced by doubt and unbelief. Naturally He is not in the bleachers, but we presume Him to be there because we are so consumed by earthly pressures.

Today I expect to be raised in power. The very feeble daily existence I often live is a consequence of deep seated unbelief that I inherited by my sinful nature, by Satan himself, and by those around me, who modeled for me a uninformed Christianity, one that is parked in Romans 7 and not in Romans 8.

Resolving to live in the power of God and not in the death of sin and failure is very difficult, because we are daily consumed by the latter and shrouded from the former.

God is not dead however, in spite of Nietzsche. God laughed when He woke up one day and found that Nietzsche posted the Savior’s obituary.   But who’s dead now?

Sadly, many Christians, including myself, however, live a Nietzschesque life, implying by our faithless action that the Creator is dead, or at least sleeping in some kind of uninvolved sleeping bag in the mountains somewhere, camping around someone else’s fire.

We must grab hold of this idea of resurrection power, in faith. God is not dead nor doth he sleep.

Precious few are those to whom we can turn for an image of real faith in a real God, who in the bleakness of the hour, see resurrection power around the corner. Living in expectancy will sell better than Wal-Mart. I choose to live there today.

This is the message of Easter.  This is how we define hope.  Christ’s rose from the dead.  We do, and will, rise.

Easter is not about bunnies, about eggs, about lilies, about new dresses or special services. It’s about power birthed out of weakness. Its about sin crushed by the forgiveness of God. It is about optimism in the face of pessimism.  It’s about what Jesus said when he saw the positive end of crucifixion negativity, “I, if I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men unto me.”

As the sun rises over the horizon this morning, I choose to be consumed with anticipation because God has laden me with weakness. Surely I can expect something magnificent today. Sure I can hope in his power. Why? I’m sown in weakness. I know the Savior of weakness and of power.