Chit-chat isn’t my strongest skill set. I often want to dive right into deeper subjects and heart matters. I remember a time, many years ago when my mother gently reminded me that it was too soon to ask a question so personal to a stranger. But you signed up for this. So let’s keep the chit-chat to a minimum. This is my first newsletter, and there are likely a thousand better ways to start off, but instead, let’s just start.
Lately, it seems that everywhere I look I’m encouraged to push the limits—with my vehicle, the moisturizer that will revolutionize and preserve my skin, or the app that will maximize and extend my time. If I bought all the marketing world tried to sell me I would believe in my limitlessness, my invincibility, I could practically believe I’m immortal. Nearly. But in fact, it’s my limits that consistently bring me crashing into reality. I am mortal after all.
Is mortality really that awful? I know, I know. We all have a laundry list of the reasons that sometimes mortality in fact is that awful. I have a list too.
I spent last winter and the past couple of months in what I can only hope are isolated, mini flare-ups of my Rheumatoid Arthritis. Summer blew away and I crashed into my limits. These include fatigue, joint pain, stiffness, and the dreaded brain fog. My capacity for homemaking is limited, and my ability to create fun activities and go on outings with my kids is limited. My ability to pace the floors with our newborn was non-existent for a couple of weeks, and I’ve been informed that my meal quality has declined (sorry kids).
If you do a quick google search on limitations you’ll find pages of quotes about breaking beyond your limits, quotes inferring that it's only those who lack drive and imagination that have limits. You won't find pages encouraging you to practice gratitude for limits or that God has ordained limits in his goodness. But what if we created our own pages filled with the beauty of limits?
I don’t want to be cliche, or ever offer Christianese, feel-good platitudes. But friend, I’m ever confident in the beauty of the limits that our Lord has provided.
Psalm 16 has served as a lifeline for contentment in my heart this year. As the limits of the past couple of years have smeared the pages of this psalm with mascara-stained tears and smudges of penned prayers, it has resolutely reminded me of the goodness of limits.
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
Psalm 16:5-6
He holds my lot, my very future, securely in his hands. He has built boundary lines around me, and in this, I have been given blessing and belonging—an inheritance!
Surely you’ve read of David’s life—a true rollercoaster of events. He didn’t write this as a hollow religious comfort. David wrote it in want and need. He penned most of his psalms while others hunted him, during the devastating aftermath of sin, following betrayal or deceit. David understood the very real hope of his words in this psalm. He understood the goodness of God’s providence, and the inheritance we have when we rest in God.
The benefits these boundary lines offer are the limits of security, abiding joy, and the presence of the Most High.
I cling to these as I experience the boundary lines of pain. The world continues to tell me that this is a limit to overcome and to cure. And my quest for contentment is often met with discomfort rather than understanding. I’m under no illusion that I’m alone in this. I have a prayer list of friends battling chronic disease and pain, walking in ongoing relational hurt, and significant disappointments.
I find myself often asking the question, ‘Do I trust that God is enough to supply these benefits and goodness to my limits?’
Do I trust him to give me joy in communion with him as I sit in pain? Can I sit confidently in his security as I stand in a season of doubt and anxiety? Does he actually meet me with a rich inheritance, and is it enough?
Will you sit with me this winter as I wrestle through these questions amid pain? Will you strive with me to cling to hope in the Limitless God as we sit in the tension of your own limitations?
(Did I mention that I'm also not highly skilled at wrapping up an ending? See ya next month!)
Tidy little endings are so tricky!🙃
Love these thoughts, Stephanie. Some friends and I take turns reminding each other that our limits are an opportunity to let God be strength in our weakness.💛
I love verse 3, as I have benefited so greatly from many godly heroes in my life! Of you know one of them is my mom who taught me the value of contentment with what God gives me and I could say that certainly includes limitations. I also love the last verse which tells me that He will show me the way of life ( for He is the way and the life) and grant me the Joy of His presence. Those truths bread confidence and contentment in Him.