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When my heart is overwhelmed, the Psalmist writes, I will cry to You, O God. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For You have been a shelter for me, a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide in Your tabernacle {presence} forever. Psalm 61:1-4

God is my rock, my shelter, my strength. I know God tabernacles with me in all of my moments, whether seen or unseen, felt or not. I know it is in my weaknesses that God’s strength has chance to be shown perfect.

Yet I struggle with weakness. I struggle to admit weakness, and yet am so thankful for those gone before who have. Thankful for those who light the way through struggles. Those who remind me of God’s refining that goes on in our weakness, and of strength to be found by keeping my eyes on Him.

So, the question begs to be given breath, should those in ministry leadership roles admit seasons of weakness?

For far too long, there has been a glut on one side of that question. A claim that if you pray, seek, ask then you will be answered. You will find. You will be blessed beyond anything you could imagine. A claim that children of God should expect that the God of the universe, the Holy Sovereign One would want to eliminate all weakness, all struggle, all pain from our lives.

Yet, in reality, there are far more believers across the earth who live without basic resources, who are persecuted, who suffer, whose cries for health fall on deaf ears, and who carry oppressive burdens of injustice.

Those who stand on the first side might say ministry leaders who admit weakness or struggles would seem not to believe God is all powerful or all sufficient. Might seem inherently to limit God.

And yet for believers who live in a world without answers for their immense suffering, what if ministry leaders admitted their weaknesses in ways that give credence to others. Give permission for others to voice weakness, questions, struggles. Ways that offer a safe place to admit hurt and pain. To be reminded of Scriptures claiming we will struggle in life. Trials will come. The refiner’s fire will rage around us, in us.

And yet, there is hope. For though our outer bodies may be wasting away, our inner selves are being renewed day by day . . . producing an eternal weight of glory for us far beyond all comparison. 2 Corinthians 4:16-17

When leaders who admit struggles also share victories in finding God present in every detail, good and bad, of their lives, I contend there is huge hope spread forth. God can be seen as being with us in the here and now, always at work in our lives, always calling forth His image within us.

God will redeem our suffering, use those who have suffered in ways that encourage and bring compassion to others. Every time one of God’s hurting children offer up their devastated life canvas to Him, the world has opportunity to see God’s strength, mercy, love, and sustaining power brought to life in the work He does through that individual.

Michele Cushatt has given us one of those portraits in a book soon to be released. Because her blog has been such an encouragement to me, I recently joined an advance team of readers for her book that will be launched in 5 days:

Undone: A Story of Making Peace with an Unexpected Life.

Undone is a compelling story of her life the past years winding several threads of suffering through the ultimate lens of God’s faithful presence, love and strength.

If you are interested in reading more about it or preordering and receiving a commissioned print, please visit www.UndoneBook.com. *If you like what you see there, please share the links on all your social media sites!

Michele writes with authenticity, honesty and vulnerability in ways that remind us we are not alone – void neither of those who understand our struggles, nor of those who give testimony of a God who sees, who draws near and who is with us in all of our moments. Moments of having it all together, and moments of being completely undone.

Jesus, from the moment I met you I’ve been undone. You have pursued me, confused me, led me, wrecked me, and, above all, loved me. I have no idea what’s next and sometimes the truth of that scares me. But this I do know: I am yours. And you will not let me go. Undone, 244

I will abide in Your tabernacle {presence} forever. Psalm 61:4a

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