weak

This morning was oddly cool and breezy. The usually suffocating humidity of rainy season was replaced with a crisp, quiet coolness. It was one of those mornings that (admittedly) I was hoping for a day off for a movie marathon in my jammies. This week has been tough. And if I’m being honest, this entire time since we landed has been tough. The blog post Wyatt and I wrote just a few days ago still stands true though. We’ve found great joy in being here, but we’ve also faced great opposition and difficulty.

As a teacher/boss/contractor/mentor/etc. I don’t often get to be weak. Rather, I don’t choose to be weak. I have to have all the answers. I have to anticipate the next move and make plans. I have to stand tall when things are tough, because so many faces look to me for how to react. This emotion-stuffing way of doing things probably isn’t the healthiest, but I do it here. When I get hollered at by random people, or ripped off, or singled out, I can’t just collapse and cry. My vulnerability would put me in danger. So when things are hard, I choke it up, I keep moving forward, and I “stay strong.”

And this rejection of weakness is what has bonded me with the ladies of Clothed in Hope today.

I walked into the Chikondi Community Center with a heavy heart today. Burdened. Distracted. Sad. But I dared not let it show. Until I felt that every other woman felt the exact same way. The ladies usually dress themselves in smiles, pretending the worries of the world don’t affect them. Today, it was different. The mood was heavy. The ladies hungry for the opportunity to be weak, to take off the mask of false strength. To lay down their burdens.

Fridays are encouragement days, so today followed the same schedule. But today things went a bit differently. Just recently, I placed a Prayer Request jar at the entrance to the center with paper and a pen for women to submit requests anonymously for us to pray over as a group (quite an American concept, actually). For days only my 2 requests sat in there. When we opened the jar today, there were a dozen little folded slips of paper, confessions of burdens, requests for help.

We could all sense the weight that hung in the room today- the discouragement, the effects of oppression, the worries, the fears. And for just one day, we let ourselves be weak. Each little slip of paper was held on tightly by a pair of women who prayed over that request. Whispers turned to loud voices turned to shouts and cries. We chose to stand in the gap and face the throne of God on behalf of our friends, our sisters. We all joined hands, united, with women of the 2 current classes and even women who will enroll in our newest class. We joined hands in a circle, declaring that the space in the middle belonged to Jesus alone. It was there we could empathize, to lay down our burdens and the struggles of our sisters. It was there we could take off our masks of strength that we keep on for so many people in our lives, and expose faces of weakness and fear. It was there we could be completely ourselves without any reservation, knowing we were meeting the very Spirit of God in prayer.

I often share stories of success only, and yes those stories are important and evidence just how God is moving through our program. But what about stories of weakness? Why are we so afraid to be weak? Who do we think we have to impress?

Women shouted out cries for their sisters for financial breakthroughs.

For their children to have college opportunities.

For another house to miraculously become available as their landlord will kick them out tonight.

For God to provide customers to visit their businesses to provide for their families.

For unity with feuding friends.

For physical and spiritual healing from long-term illness.

For financial provision to buy start-up equipment for new business.

For the well being of their children.

For continued funding for our program.

For the compassion of a husband’s bosses in a particular situation.

For health for a mom in a high-risk pregnancy with twins.

For food for the next week.

And the list goes on. Once we all knew that another woman was struggling, we could admit our own struggle. 12 requests turned to 20. Hardness exchanged for beautiful fragility. I then recognized that it is beautiful to be weak. That God celebrated over all of us women holding hands, crying out about what hurts us, what keeps us up at night, what is hard to trust Him with. Because it’s in our weakness that we are completely ourselves before Him, relying on Him alone to meet our needs. Dependency. Brokenness. Surrender. Vulnerability.

I peeked up from our hour of prayer, hand-in-hand with one woman I’ve known for 2 year now, and one I just met today, and I saw something so beautiful.

One dusty face with tears adorning the tops of her cheekbones. The most beautiful of tears. Tears that say, “I am weak, but You are strong.” And tears that respond to hearing Jesus say, “It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. You can be weak.”

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I just had to rest in that moment. Recognizing that our King was in the room, the Spirit that has the power to rescue, redeem, restore. Our King wasn’t condemning us for our fears or worries. He was meeting us in our weakness to whisper words of grace and incredible love. He was delighting over our brokenness. He was speaking to the hearts of women who are hurting, myself included. 

In that moment, there wasn’t teacher or student, American or Zambian, widow or single mother, employed or unemployed. There was simply the beauty of a community of women seeking our King together. Celebrating our weakness, even if just for a bit.

What’s even better? After we finished our time of prayer and preaching, we danced. We shouted. We laughed. We sang. We danced some more. Because we all knew that something special happened today. We all knew that we just spent some incredible moments before the face of Jesus in a most powerful way. We all saw each others’ weakness, and it didn’t draw comparison or guilt; it empowered. Though things are hard, though the world is tough, though we’re all fighting our own battles, there is a reason to dance and laugh. In our weakness, He is strong. In our doubt, He is steadfast. In our fear, He is faithful. In our running, He pursues.

We all concluded our morning- turned afternoon- with hearts full of joy. Not because everything was solved or the miracles happened on the spot (though God is fully capable). We left joyful because life is difficult YET we have a reason to rejoice. The God of the Universe is on our side. He is inviting us into beautiful weakness. He is pursuing us in our deepest hurts. He is whispering reminders of love and hope when all else seems too difficult.

And that’s surely a reason to rejoice.

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

    nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

    and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

    and there be no herd in the stalls,

YET I will rejoice in the Lord;

    I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

    he makes my feet like the deer's;

    he makes me tread on my high places.

Habbakuk 3:17-19

Why, my soul, are you downcast?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will YET praise him,

my Savior and my God.

Psalm 42:11