Weak and Weary: His Strength Is Your Strengthಮಾದರಿ

Want to Wrestle?

Let’s keep this simple. There is a pace, a rhythm to how I work in you. I know you want to rush it, to feel fully free. I place that longing within you to search for Me, a longing that cannot be replaced but can be filled with other things, other commitments.

Oh, daughter, what does it look like to be committed to Me?

Let Me tell you.

There is waiting. A lot of waiting. At least that is what it feels like.

It feels like I am stalling, that I am busy doing other things and can’t attend to you or I am pushing you to wrestle with Me into discomfort.

Wrestling, by its nature, is uncomfortable.

But let me tell you more about wrestling. It is full body contact. It is arms wrapped around. It is holding on tight and tumbling and maintaining a firm grasp on your opponent.

I am willing to wrestle with you. I am willing to stay here, in the arena, with you. I am willing to be with you, reassuring you I am here.

The waiting isn’t stagnation when you are wrestling with Me. I would rather you wrestle with Me, want to push back against Me, in frustration or anger or fear, than turn your back and not engage all together.

Daughter, I want to engage. I love for you to tell Me what you think, how you are mad or hurt or frustrated or scared. I want to hear you cry out, see you reach for Me, look around, seeking to find Me so you can grab hold of Me—right here—and head into the arena where we can have it out.

I want to have all of you. You are not too much. You are not too much for Me to handle. And I am strong enough to hold you while you cling to Me, not sure if you want to hang on or let go.

Keep hanging on, girl.

No matter what, I am holding you the whole time.