Let’s be honest: most of us are exhausted.
We are exhausted from trying to hold everything together. We are exhausted from pretending we’re stronger than we are. We are exhausted from believing that if we could simply become more disciplined, more productive, more faithful, or more resilient, life would finally feel manageable.
Underneath all that striving is a deeper fear. We are afraid of our own limitations.
We dislike needing help. We resent our physical limitations. We are frustrated by our emotions, disappointed by our failures, and unsettled by circumstances we cannot control. We despise the weaknesses that expose how little power we actually possess.
But perhaps we are fighting the wrong battle. Perhaps weakness is not our enemy. Perhaps weakness is one of God’s greatest invitations.
The truth is that it is hard to be human. We are finite creatures living in a broken world. We experience grief, sickness, disappointment, anxiety, and uncertainty. We need sleep. We need nourishment. We need relationships. We need help.
Yet we often live as though those needs are failures.
Even Christians can quietly adopt the belief that maturity means becoming increasingly self-sufficient. We may never say it out loud, but we often behave as though dependence is something to outgrow.
Then life interrupts us. A diagnosis arrives. A prayer goes unanswered. A relationship fractures. A season of suffering lingers longer than we expected.
And suddenly we find ourselves asking difficult questions. If God loves me, why is this happening? Why am I still struggling? Is God disappointed in me? Is my weakness evidence that I’m failing Him?
Scripture offers a profoundly different answer. At the very moment we’re tempted to pull away from Jesus, we’re invited to move closer. Because if we look carefully at Christ, we discover something extraordinary: we are not only sinners who need a Savior; we are sufferers who need a Comforter.
This is why Jesus’s humanity matters so much. Jesus did not rescue us from a distance. He entered our world. He chose to become fully human. He came into the world as a vulnerable infant. He experienced hunger, exhaustion, grief, rejection, sorrow, and pain. He willingly entered every ordinary limitation of human life.
Why? Because Jesus came to redeem our humanity, not erase it. This truth changes everything. If we focus only on Jesus’s divinity, we may be tempted to see Him as powerful but distant. If we forget His humanity, we may unintentionally imagine a Savior who can save us but cannot understand us.
But Hebrews reminds us that we have something far better.
‘For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin’ (Hebrews 4:15).
Think about that word: sympathize. Jesus doesn’t merely observe our weakness. He doesn’t tolerate it. He doesn’t roll His eyes at it. He sympathizes with it. He knows what it feels like to be weary. He knows what it feels like to grieve. He knows what it feels like to be misunderstood. He knows what it feels like to suffer. And because He knows, He draws near.
Perhaps God is not nearly as frustrated by your limitations as you are. Perhaps your weakness is not evidence that you are failing. Perhaps it is evidence that you are human.
This can be difficult for us to accept because our culture celebrates independence. We admire strength and self-sufficiency. We applaud people who seem to have everything together. But the gospel tells a different story. Human beings were never designed to be self-sustaining. We were designed to depend on God.
From the very beginning, we were created as creatures, not creators. Our limitations are not design flaws. They are reminders that we belong to Him. This means weakness can become something entirely different. Weakness can become a place of encounter.
Again and again throughout the Gospels, we watch Jesus move toward needy people. He moves toward the weary. He moves toward the grieving. He moves toward the fearful. He moves toward the doubting. He moves toward the suffering. The people who receive His compassion are rarely those who appear strongest. They are often the ones who have finally stopped pretending.
Perhaps that is our invitation too. Perhaps Jesus is inviting us to stop performing. Perhaps He is inviting us to stop proving ourselves. Perhaps He is inviting us to admit what has always been true: we need Him. This is not failure. This is discipleship.
Because until we see our need, we cannot receive His strength. Jesus Himself says, ‘Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest’ (Matthew 11:28).
Notice what He does not say. He does not say, ‘Come to me when you’ve become stronger.’ He does not say, ‘Come to me when you’ve solved your problems.’ He does not say, ‘Come to me when you’ve stopped struggling.’ He simply says, ‘Come.’
Perhaps today that is exactly what you need to hear. Your weakness is not keeping Jesus away. It may be the very place He intends to meet you. We may never understand why certain struggles remain. We may never fully understand why life unfolds differently than we hoped. But because of Jesus, we can know something even better.
We can know God’s heart. The Son of God loved us enough to become one of us. He loved us enough to enter suffering. He loved us enough to walk through every aspect of our fragile existence. And He still draws near today. Your weakness is not the end of your story. It may be the beginning of discovering that Christ has been waiting there all along.
{If you enjoyed this blog post, you might also like this episode of The Love Offering Podcast, where Rachael chats with Laura L. Smith about what it means to live courageously in our everyday lives and how God equips us to step forward in faith, even when we feel inadequate. You can listen to the episode here.}
This is an excerpt from Kristen and Sarah’s book, Jesus Will Meet You There: Finding Strength and Comfort in the Savior Who Understand.
About the Authors:
Kristen Wetherell is a pastor’s wife, mother, and writer. She is the author of numerous books, including Help for the Hungry Soul, Humble Moms, and the award-winning Hope When It Hurts. She loves writing for kids and is the author of the board book series For the Bible Tells Me So, Teach Me to Pray, and The Big WHY. Kristen also enjoys teaching God’s word to women of local churches. She and her husband, Brad, live in Chicagoland and are members of The Orchard. They are parents to Joanna, John, and Lydia.
Sarah Walton is a wife, mother, and writer. She is the author of several books, including her children’s book The Long Road Home and her evangelistic resource Tears and Tossings. She is also the co-author of Hope When It Hurts, He Gives More Grace, Together Through the Storms (co-written with her husband, Jeff), and devotional contributor to the forthcoming ESV Girls Study Bible through Crossway. Sarah lives in the beautiful state of Colorado with her husband and four children.
