I wrote the song “Weakness” because I believe we need more worship songs that help us face our failures and limits. I know I do. I’ve used spiritual experience — church services, worship, prayer — to help me escape my everyday life; but the Jesus Way is not a coping mechanism numbing us so we can avoid the pain of our weaknesses. Rather, it is a narrow way lit by the presence of God, leading us into the depths of our own egos.

We use different strategies to avoid following Jesus on this journey. We lie to ourselves. We pretend to be people we’re not. We scapegoat others, convincing ourselves that we’re not the problem—they are. We hide from our shame behind addictions, some obvious (alcohol, pornography), others more subtle (work, smartphones, even church and other rest-less spiritual activity). We don’t just employ these strategies as individuals either. Every group and system we contribute to has its own limits, scapegoats, and blind spots. 

Reckoning with our weaknesses takes courage I know I lack, but if we are to follow the Jesus way, we cannot brush them aside. There’s a deep irony in trying to avoid our humanity while seeking to emulate the God who became human (Philippians 2:5-8). Facing our weaknesses is difficult work, but transformation waits on the other side.

The apostle Paul embodies this. In Paul: A Biography, N.T. Wright points out that in Paul’s day, the highest honor a soldier could receive was the Corona Muralis (the “Wall Crown”), awarded to the first soldier to make it over the wall of an enemy city during battle. In 2 Corinthians, when confronted by a culture preoccupied with status and achievements, Paul boasts of several times he was weak, ending the list by writing, “In Damascus, King Aretas, the local ruler, was guarding the city of Damascus so that he could capture me, but I was let down in a basket through a window and over the wall, and I escaped his clutches. (2 Corinthians 11:32-33; The Kingdom New Testament)” Paul takes one of his culture’s highest achievements and brags about doing the exact opposite!

Several verses later, Paul delivers this stunning paragraph:

“...so that I wouldn’t become too exalted, a thorn was given to me in my flesh, a messenger from the satan, to keep stabbing away at me. I prayed to the Lord three times about this, asking that it would be taken away from me, and this is what he said to me: ‘My grace is enough for you; my power comes to perfection in weakness.’ So I will be all the more pleased to boast of my weaknesses, so that the Messiah’s power may rest upon me. So I’m delighted when I’m weak, insulted, in difficulties, persecuted, facing disasters, for the Messiah’s sake. When I’m weak, you see, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10; The Kingdom New Testament)”

Paul brags about failure, boasts of weakness, and is “delighted” when facing hard times. Conventional wisdom says to run from these things, but Paul embraces them as opportunities to be transformed so the life of Jesus may flow through him.
We love to praise God for our breakthroughs, not our breakdowns. But what if our breakdowns are opportunities to not only encounter God, but become like Him? Are we bold enough to thank Him for failure? Can we celebrate our limits? I believe we can. We rejoice, for our weaknesses are not prisons, but temples where God’s presence moves, shaping us into the image of Jesus so we can join Him in His work of healing our world.