“My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness” — 2 Corinthians 12:9
One sunny day in Atlanta, some seminary friends and I decided to pack our bags and head out for a weekend of camping in Smoky Mountain National Park. We knew the weather forecast: Tropical Storm Nate was rapidly approaching, heading straight for the mountains to which we drove. But ... what’s a little rain? We arrived, set up camp (six tents of all different colors), walked the forest a little, cooked dinner and sat around the campfire enjoying the crisp (by Southern standards) fall air.
All the while, the impending threat of rain remained buried in our consciousnesses, verbalized at times more in a joking manner than with actual preparations. When the next morning came, the day Nate was scheduled to arrive, we nevertheless laced up our boots and began a 14-mile trek up to a ridge on the Appalachian Trail. Maybe about 15 minutes into our walk, it began to rain *surprise, surprise.* Though the thought to turn back frequented my mind, we never wavered in our driving pace forward. By the time we reached the ridge, each of us was thoroughly soaked with still over 11 miles to go.
At some point, we each put our heads down and walked. I mean walked. We booked it. It’s surprising the degree of determination that can be engendered from a cold, wet drizzle and just over 10 miles between you and dry underwear. We walked with purpose. I reflected at some point on the journey that what makes rainstorms difficult isn’t necessarily the rain itself, but the ‘regular’ unfolding of life, the trail before us, that continues oblivious to the rain.
Friends, even as COVID unfolds around us, the rest of life continues. Sometimes we are reminded about that in beautiful ways — through jokes and birthday wishes shared across the miles — and sometimes we are reminded about that in painful ways — job loss, medical diagnosis, a loved one’s passing. On top of COVID, the rest of life keeps going.
So if you are tired, that’s okay. If you are overwhelmed, that’s okay. If you have no strength left, that’s okay. It’s the rainstorms that most clearly remind me of God’s words to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness,” because it’s the rainstorms that remind me of that weakness. The rainstorms remind me that I can’t carry myself though life with brute force, control or determination. But that the droplets that wash over me, that soak me to the bone, are indeed a sign of God’s grace, assuring me that God’s grace alone is sufficient.
Along our 14-mile trek that day, we shared many thoughts, stories and laughs with one another. At one point, the trail turned suddenly and we knew that we had begun our 5-mile descent back to the campsite. Hallelujah! We spent the next 20 minutes systematically working our way through the alphabet from A to Z thinking of synonyms for “wet.” Among my favorites, “H-hydro blasted,” “L - Liquified,” and “N - Notonedryspotleft.”
Holy God, help us put our trust in you, that we might find assurance in your grace and strength in your power to weather the storms before us. Amen.
Pastor Emily Carroll
