Recharge of Strength

We didn’t watch much television as kids, but enough to remember cool shows like reruns of Little House on the Prairie, some cartoons of Tom Sawyer and show after school on PBS Kids. Let’s not forget Barney. The real kick to those earlier nineties specials were the commercials. Back then, commercials were more knowledgeable, funny and had a catch to remember (at least the annoying ones, such as Dentyne Ice). Most of all, commercials were informative . . . not just the medicine or medical ones, but the ones pertaining to us kids—toys and kid’s meal prizes. I’m serious. How often these days do you see commercials for the newest Avengers action hero figure or a Dora the Explorer prize booklet you get in your meal bag? Not many! The days of Tonka Toys and kitchen sets for kids, and Polly Pockets are over. And my favorite? Power Rangers! Who had it all, until the end—“Batteries not included.”

This morning, I felt like those Power Ranger figures, motionless and without their hidden powers. My mind was active, aware that the morning was on the move, but I physicaly could not get my body to follow. I tried once, but the pain in my neck was so bad that I sat in my black chair and tilt my head against the pillow, resulting in more sleep. When I finally awoke, the neck pain had diminished, but I was so weak. Even lifting my left arm to reach for a clothing item, I said out loud, “I do not have the strength.”

On days like today, when I fought to recharge my strength, it never comes from me, though I try, adding extra caffeine just for energy. It is seeming these days . . . even with a good night’s sleep . . . my body is drained and I sleep so much and that in turn bugs me, because I want to be filling my days. I am waging against contentment of what I can do and what I cannot do anymore. And this morning, the “Battery is low” sign flashed; I never recharged it with the Word and I did not receive any extra reserve in the flesh, because God—compassionate and loving, rich in mercy—showed me today, strength is not just the flesh. He recharged my strength in mind and heart. “He restores my soul.” (Psalm 23:3a)

Never underestimate the power of a kind word, text, email, surprise snail mail, service or even a smile. Most of all, prayer! To know people bend their knees on my behalf . . . even my weakest joints reflect answers of strength I so often forget. And thus, I lift my needful hands.

“Needful Hands”

Jars of Clay