The answer to the question of Christian character is resilience of holy accord. Mix with the ability to endure, to persist, to persevere, the moral desire to become holy. Both attitudinal imperatives set us a sail for an intrepid voyage over the contemptible lifespan where tougher seasons make us better, and don’t rip us apart, sinew of shame from sinew of fatigue, even though shame and fatigue are inherently part of it.
Let’s get down to the nitty gritty of the day; that’s where we’re most tempted to fold. Let’s remember:
The day cannot defeat us
If we know in the week we can recover.
And the week is no enemy
If we know the month holds us tight overall.
And the month won’t get the better of us
If we know that seasons come and seasons go.
Where we are right now isn’t how life will be soon… even in six months. Two years into the future and things will be different. We’ll be challenged by different challenges. That’s sweet relief. Think about your present challenge. You’d take almost anything else rather than the present humiliating task. But it’s all relative.
The reason there is change in life is that God’s impassioned to make us resilient; of mind and heart and character. He wants us perfected in holiness, which is perseverance. Sure, we’ll never get close to perfection, but we can progress in resilience, which is humility. We can adapt to change in such a way as to deal with it all as if we know life’s about difficulty. The answer to difficulty is resilience. We must expect difficulty, and then, paradoxically, life gets easy.
In the midst of change we may feel fearful and unhappy, even broken and unable to sustain any hope. Depressed and anxious to the point of questioning your purpose, ability to endure, even your very life. It’s understandable. Nothing to feel guilty or ashamed for. But an invitation to wrestle, to resist the spiral, to ever push quietly and hopefully forward.
The answer to the questions of such a life is resilience, which is a hope-fuelled way of stepping faithfully forward, even when we feel terrible.
© 2016 Steve Wickham.