Have you ever felt like your life is one great, big, huge cruel joke? That is where I am right now. The devil mocks me. I swear I could hear his cruel laughter this morning in my quiet time, lurking in the near distance, coming ever closer, taunting and knowing he is winning. His voice echoes through my morning. What seems like my dying cry to God has been, “God, if this is who You are, I would as soon serve him.”
Merely by habit, I put on worship music as I prepared for my day. – Skip that song. I can’t bear to hear its words right now. I would skip the next song; but I am too wet to touch my phone. Oh, what’s the use, shut if off! – But the lyrics echoed in my head as I sought to be more interested in financial markets than I have ever been in my life. If I told you my story, you would hear hope that never let go. With a mix of despair and bitterness, I changed the words in my head to if I told you my story, you would lose hope… A small defense against my pain.
Now that I have cheered us all up with the current state of my spirituality, I may as well begin on some level to engage the topic of today’s conversation. One which was chosen by my heart a few weeks ago. One which mocks me this morning. One I am not sure I can engage with any integrity.
Today’s conversation was supposed to be about weakness. Now you must surely be wondering why I think I cannot write about it with integrity. I have hardly introduced myself as being strong. But I was supposed to be writing about being a voice for the weak. This article was not supposed to feel like my last gasp for breathe before I sink below the waves. Drowning, as I have recently so often been doing.
A voice like His is always for the weak. It never scorns them. It never ignores them. It never looks with contempt upon them. It never tries to get away from them. It does not fear weakness but embraces it. It reaches out to lend a helping hand. It always, always, always is a voice for the voiceless. An echo through the ages to help those who cannot help themselves.
This morning I need a voice. I need a voice like His to come to my rescue.
More lyrics fill my brain as I write. I seem to be unable to escape the fruit of years of non-garbage-in non-garbage-out. …to my rescue, and I want to be where You are…
Not really. But then that is undoubtedly my real problem. Earth has simply gotten too earthy for me these days.
Another thing about being a voice for the voiceless has just come to mind. It means one’s own voice is constantly trying to be silenced. The reason the voiceless have no voice is because theirs has been taken away. They are too weak to resist any longer, so they fade into silence becoming a victim of the power around them.
I want to be like You. Give all I have just to know You. Jesus, there’s no one beside You. Forever the light in my life…
Last night in my time with Him, I wept. “God, you know the only reason I am choosing You right now, the only reason I serve You, is because I have somehow reached a point in my spiritual journey where I know there is no other. It isn’t because I think You are good or kind or loving. It is out of bare necessity.” So I wept.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. He never was a giver. He is only a taker. Only wants me to never have what he can never have.
There are so many with no voice in my life. As I have pondered this in my heart over the last few weeks, I wondered how I am their voice. How will I ever have the strength to amplify their dying cry for help? I wonder if I will ever have the strength to be a voice for you.
I don’t know if you know this, but you are weak. And if you don’t think you are, Jesus thinks you are a Pharisee.
It’s odd how there is only one type of people in this world – the weak ones. But then there are all the other types. One of the common themes of the Old Testament is that God is for the widow, the orphan and the financially poor. One of the greatest evils of a society according to Scripture is when one forsakes those who have no voice. One which turns the other way when the weak cry for help. One which only grasps for personal power and enjoyment.
So there are two types of people in this world. People who know they are weak and people who don’t know they are weak. People with no voice and people who silence the voiceless. People who no longer have the strength to put on a facade of strength and people who desperately do everything possible to maintain an appearance of capability and strength in the eyes of those around them. People who wished someone would hear their silent call for help and people who think ignoring the cry is not fitting into the latter category but maintaining a neutral position.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.
Other lyrics echo through my heart this morning. Words from a really old psalm:
From out the depths I cry oh Lord to Thee Lord, here my call… For mercy and redemption full and free with Him abide… If He should mark our sins who then could stand, But grace and mercy dwell at His right hand.
The miry depth psalm seemed to mock me in quiet time this morning. What? David got over his problems in five minutes? Who was this guy? I am in a deeper pit than that! How about if I just read the beginnings of all the psalms? That way I feel like I can relate to the writer?
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I come that they may have life and have it abundantly. (John 10:10)
I wonder from where my salvation will arise. How long I will sink in the depths before He comes to my rescue. How long it will be before I once again believe He is a good God. One who loves indiscriminately. One whose faithfulness will never fail.
Because you are precious and honored in my sight and because I love you… (Isaiah 43:4)
Really? Really truly?
How are you a voice for the weak? What do you do for those around you who cannot help themselves? And last but not least, do you know you are weak or are you still trying to pretend you are strong?
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