Life

I came that they may have life and may have it abundantly.

— St. John 10:10

If in the extreme of our exhaustion, there should come to us, as to Elijah when he slept in the desert, an angel to rouse us, and show us the waiting bread and water, how would we carry ourselves? Would we, in faint unwillingness to rise and eat, answer, “Lo, I am weary unto death! Let me be gathered to my fathers and be at rest!”? I should be loath to think that, if the enemy came roaring upon us, we would not, like the Red Cross Knight, stagger, heavy sword in nerveless arm, to meet him; but, in the feebleness of foiled effort, it wants yet more faith to rise and partake of the food that shall bring back more effort, more travail, more weariness. The true man trusts in a strength which is not his, and which he does not feel, does not even always desire. To trust in the strength of God in our weakness; to seek from him who is our life, as the natural, simple cure of all that is amiss with us; this is the victory that overcometh the world. To believe in God our strength in the face of all seeming denial, to believe in him out of the heart of weakness and unbelief, these are the broken steps up to the high fields where repose is but a form of strength, strength but a form of joy, joy but a form of love. “I am weak,” says the true soul, “but not so weak that I would not be strong; not so sleepy that I would not see the sun rise; not so lame but that I would walk! Thanks be to him who perfects strength in weakness, and gives to his beloved while they sleep!”