Examine one of my favorite Scripture passages: 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "And He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong." These verses helped me cope with many anxieties throughout my high school years, and they still come to my rescue often. What a comforting thought: "It's OK that I'm not perfect because Jesus was perfect for me!" However, this passage has taken on a new and heavier meaning in light of Wallace's writing.
The sentences that once held so much comfort now present themselves as an opponent in a wrestling match. Yes, it is wonderful that I am not required to be powerful, but I've discovered that I'm not content with not being powerful. I want to be recognized for my greatness. I want to say I've earned the good things I have. I want to know I can be self-sufficient. But these desires are completely counter to the truth of the verses I've held dear for so long. I was too close to see how far I was from understanding. And this is where the wrestling match begins. Though I long for the comfort of resting in Christ's righteousness, I am not willing to give up working for myself. Though I know I'm nothing without Jesus, I don't truly want to see myself as nothing.
And here is where Wallace's words help me view Paul more clearly. For a long time I've only looked at the uplifting side 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, "Jesus is my everything!" But I haven't dealt with what that means for my pride. In order to experience the full freedom Christ offers, I must battle my longing to be exceptional. I must accept my weaknesses before I can be strong in Jesus. Only in realizing my full humanity can I better understand Christ's divine power working in me. These truths cause me sincere and great pain because I fear insignificance. But I've realized that's the point. Blessed are those who know they have nothing to offer because Christ will give them everything in Himself.
What a higher and more glorious reality these verses contain than I previously thought.
So this is what I've learned: truth is seldom easy. Usually, for something to truly change me and grow me, it has to break me first. I have to be broken of my pride before I can walk in the freedom of Jesus' sacrifice. I have to experience the pain of dying to myself so I can live in Christ's power. Hard things lead to the Ultimate Good things, and because of this principle, there can be joy in the pain. Wallace was right: freedom comes after losing the fight with truth. When truth overtakes me, I am then able to be victorious. I hate this reality, but I also love it. Truth is tricky like that.
The sentences that once held so much comfort now present themselves as an opponent in a wrestling match. Yes, it is wonderful that I am not required to be powerful, but I've discovered that I'm not content with not being powerful. I want to be recognized for my greatness. I want to say I've earned the good things I have. I want to know I can be self-sufficient. But these desires are completely counter to the truth of the verses I've held dear for so long. I was too close to see how far I was from understanding. And this is where the wrestling match begins. Though I long for the comfort of resting in Christ's righteousness, I am not willing to give up working for myself. Though I know I'm nothing without Jesus, I don't truly want to see myself as nothing.
And here is where Wallace's words help me view Paul more clearly. For a long time I've only looked at the uplifting side 2 Corinthians 12:9-10, "Jesus is my everything!" But I haven't dealt with what that means for my pride. In order to experience the full freedom Christ offers, I must battle my longing to be exceptional. I must accept my weaknesses before I can be strong in Jesus. Only in realizing my full humanity can I better understand Christ's divine power working in me. These truths cause me sincere and great pain because I fear insignificance. But I've realized that's the point. Blessed are those who know they have nothing to offer because Christ will give them everything in Himself.
What a higher and more glorious reality these verses contain than I previously thought.
So this is what I've learned: truth is seldom easy. Usually, for something to truly change me and grow me, it has to break me first. I have to be broken of my pride before I can walk in the freedom of Jesus' sacrifice. I have to experience the pain of dying to myself so I can live in Christ's power. Hard things lead to the Ultimate Good things, and because of this principle, there can be joy in the pain. Wallace was right: freedom comes after losing the fight with truth. When truth overtakes me, I am then able to be victorious. I hate this reality, but I also love it. Truth is tricky like that.
