Doing Five Minute Friday with the prompt “Grit.”
At first all I can think of is that Vienna bread we bought that had something in it that screeched between your teeth and sent shivers up the spine.
But I finally think of “grit” as in strength of character, determination, pluck.
And I wonder if I have any. In myself.
So many times I’ve trembled at the brink of what God wanted me to do. Someone with more grit than I would dive right in and swim strong strokes. But I waver, plead with God, “I can’t!” and whine. Not grit, that.
But “I” have walked through (figurative) fires. I have faced opposition. I have stood firm on truth and righteousness. On occasion. Still trembling, or filled with an inexplicable peace that could only come from God.
Because it wasn’t my power at work. I didn’t have any! It’s always been when I came to the utter end of myself that “I did” the greatest, most difficult things. Came to the end of myself and cried out to Him to do His will in me that I couldn’t do. Then it happened: “His strength is made perfect in weakness.”
Maybe people-grit is like that in the bread. Not the kind we really want or ought to have, something that makes our presence known, but not in any way pleasant or useful. The huge power of the gentle Shepherd is entirely different from that, mighty to the tearing down of strongholds, holding forth truth people would rather not hear, but still burning with holiness and love.
Dear God, I count on your strength. Any grittiness I have is like that in the bread loaf. But yours is infinite, holy, and wholly able to do in and through me whatever you desire to have done.