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    July 7, 2010- The Weak and Weary Manifesto


           I am weak.  I am weary.

           Some days I cannot stand on my soul's own two feet.  Some days my spirit can barely muster the strength to breathe.  My breath comes from the Lord.  Anything I do comes from the Lord.  I am weak.

           I cannot fathom things.  I cannot fathom grace.  I cannot fathom God's sovereignty, his omnipotence, his eternality.  I cannot fathom why he chooses to bless some and not others.   No one deserves blessing.  I am weary.

           I cannot stand on my own.  I cannot be a stalwart of the Christian faith.  I cannot live up to familial, ecclesiastical, cultural, nor vocational expectations.  I cannot possibly be the unattainable "spiritual leader" of the relationship or household that we so pump up as great men of faith.  No man can.  It's vaporware these spiritual juggernaut-like charlatans we build up in our church cultures.  No man can possibly live up to the expectations we set for them.  If they can, then I am an utter failure of a man, of a potential husband, and of an utterly broken human following a simple man from the 1st Century.  I am weak.

           Why is the pressure like a tidal wave?  Why are the expectations Herculean?  Why am I burdened by this wisdom?  Why do people incessantly feel the need to compare, to set you up against those that do not have the same spiritual burdens?  It is so much easier for them.  They don't think so deep about things.  I didn't ask for this.  Why I am plagued by it?  And I've never even sweet blood resisting temptation…I am truly a weak, wretched man.  I am weary.

           No one pours into me.  No one has time.  No one has the same burdens?  There are so many that need help on the simple things…who has time, or the capacity, to pour into me on the deep things?  Where are the carnivores of the Christian faith these days?  They are a scattered few, scattered far from me.  Most just eat plants and porridge and milk.  I feel alien among my own kind.  They look at me as if I'm out of it.  I worship next to the saved, but saved that are a million miles away.  Who has my thoughts?  I read the same text next to brothers.  They walk on a different plane.  One, maybe two.  One brother…one girl, like a rib of my own…torn from me by my own hands.  Oh I am wretched, weak, and weary man…

           Life is hard.  I don't mind that.  I don't mind the things I cannot control.  In fact I embrace the fact that God is in control of those things.  I shutter in absolute freight at the fact that I have control over some decisions, especially regarding people around me.  It is a sobering fact I often make wrong decisions; I cannot make the wrong decision here.  I cannot.  Because I am so afraid to make the wrong decision I make none at all.  But where is God, where is he?  How could I make a decision apart from his irrefutable hand?!  Who can go up to the altar and say I do and not have a story that takes their complete decision and emotional concerns out of the equation?  Who can do that and be right?!  God had to deplete Gideon's army…otherwise Gideon would've claimed victory.  Lord I cannot claim this…you need to claim it for me.  Claim it for me!  Please claim it for me…  I need…  I am weary.

           I do not want to be here anymore.  I want to be with Christ.  I want to eat with him, walk with him, talk with him, write with him, view with him, build with him, run with him, sit with him, and exist with him.  I do not want to be shackled by mortal coil.  I want infinity.  I want boundless dimensions.  I want translated light, not physical laws.  I want creatures singing so beautifully to the One for ever and ever.  I want expanse beyond expanse.  I want freedom from time; I want time stricken from thought.  I want supernatural.  I tire of natural.  I want the reality behind this meager curtain of existence.  I want to experience your light, your glory, your otherworldliness.  I want it all.  I want eternity. I am weak…

           Lord break me so I can mortify.  So easily entangled by sin am I; partaking of the scraps and dirt.  Oh what a wretched man I am.  Lord reach down and pull me from this pit of miry clay.  Renew me.  Regenerate me.  Resuscitate me.  Resurrect me.  Make me new.  Make me whole.  Heal me Lord....  I am weak.



    If You lead me Lord,
    I will follow
    Where You lead me Lord,
    I will Go
    Come and heal me Lord,
    I will follow
    Where You lead me Lord,
    I will go
    I will go




    I have nowhere else to go…


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