We’re all grasshoppers until…

I’ve never been strong. Like in any sense of the word. I rarely remember getting in actual trouble growing up. All my parents had to do was look at me, semi aggravated or upset and I was completely destroyed. Left silently crying at how terrible of a person I was. Then came the famous “I’ll give you something to cry about!” I feel like every parent everywhere has to sign a contract stating they agree to repeat these same cliche phrases throughout every generation. It’s how they cement their authority. I can’t wait to sign said contract! Anyway, I never understood that particular saying. Clearly, if I was crying about something I didn’t need any additional assistance. I’ve never needed assistance crying. I’m quite skilled in that department.

No, no one’s ever looked me and thought “That one there, she’s a strong one.” In their defense, I guess I’ve never really given them a reason to believe in my strength. I established myself as a lazy weakling from the very beginning.

Remember in elementary school, when we had to take “real” PE? Like the for real, for real kind. Where they didn’t care if you had asthma or a broken leg or would utterly embarrass yourself in perpetuity never able to recover, you were going to participate in it all anyway. Even if everyone knew you couldn’t do it before you even got on the mat to try. That was my life. Every year we had to take the physical fitness test. And. I. Dreaded. It. I didn’t need to take any kind of a test to tell me I wasn’t physically fit. I had a mirror. Even in elementary school, I was self-aware to the point I knew I didn’t need a physical test to tell you I’d rather not sweat. Or be outside. All requirements to be physically fit. But my abundance of logical self-awareness didn’t mean anything to a PE teacher. We had to “run” the mile, as you’re already guessing I walked until we came in range of the teacher who blew the whistle reminding us this wasn’t supposed to be a pleasant stroll around the neighborhood, but a full out battle to the end. Then there was the v-sit and reach to ascertain how flexible you were, how many sit-ups you could do in a minute. Sit-up minutes are scientifically longer than regular minutes. The test always ended with the rope climb. The ridiculous, absurd, time-wasting, rope climb. We started with the knotted rope. It was apparently supposed to be easier. That has yet to be proven. Each student went up individually to the mat to attempt the rope climb. The boys were always better, which allowed for some solidarity among the girls. Most of us knew none of us were making it to the top. Except for one girl. There’s always that one that can hang with the guys. Makes it to the top. Completes the mile in under 5 minutes. You know who I’m talking about. There’s always one. Then there’s me. I prayed for a tornado to come and Dorothy my whole self to the land of no physical fitness tests. That prayer, thankfully in my older age, was never answered. So I had to walk up to the mat in front of all my classmates, who knew I was vertically going nowhere. Just like that PE teacher did, but made me do it anyway. I took a big gulp of air and steadied my hands as far up the knotted rope as a could and jumped. Then dangled. Because all I had actually done was lift my feet off the ground a few inches. When I let them back down after 15 seconds of futile grunting and pendulous drooping, I was at the exact same height I began at. But it was over and that was a triumph in and of itself.

Except the test wasn’t over. After the knotted rope came the straight rope…which must make so much sense that my block-headed self cannot fathom the progression. If I couldn’t do the knotted rope, which was somehow supposed to be easier because of those magical knots, how was I supposed to climb a straight one with no knots? Explain me that. But here we all went. To a new mat, a new rope, and a new senseless test. Of which I failed. I know you’re shocked. One kid even had the nerve to yell “You need to move your arms” as a form of encouragement as a yet again dangled futilely from the black part of the straight rope. For those of you unfamiliar with elementary PE or for those who have forgotten because you’re not scarred for life – the black part is the beginning of the rope. Because the straight rope doesn’t touch the ground you have to jump for it first and then pull yourself up…

Yeah, don’t put me down for that.

I know I’m not alone in this feeling of weakness. The Bible is of full of people who were physically and spiritually weak like me. Some were stuck in their weakness, while other tossed it aside for something better. I always want the something better.

In Numbers 13:1-33, we have the story of the 12 spies who were sent to scout out Canaan. Canaan was a land already promised to them by God. And it was clearly a great place, “a land flowing with milk and honey.” VeggieTales wrote a whole song about it. God had a great and prosperous future for the Israelites if they would only stop being weak. After 40 days of checking things out, the spies went home to report. They told the good, the bad, and the truthful fear of it all. The land was good, the people were big, and the mission was impossible. Ten of the twelve said there was no possible way they could ever defeat the strong men or the fortified cities. One of them flatly states, “We are not able to go up against the people, for they are stronger than we are.” They then changed their tune. The land was no longer flowing with milk and honey, but it was a “land that devours its inhabitants.” The Israelites saw themselves as grasshoppers and thought their enemy would as well.

I think the scared spies were partially correct with that last description. Which I know is terrible of me to side with the disappointing, bad guys. But we are often grasshoppers. We face giant battles that we are sorely unprepared for and not equipped to handle on our own all the time. If we were able to handle everything that came our way, there would be no need for prayer or dependence on God or others. And self-sufficiency is a hard characteristic to overcome as a follower of Christ. Feeling like we can’t handle whatever our giant is on our own is a perfectly normal reaction. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s what we do with that overwhelming-frightened feeling of being a grasshopper that can get us in major trouble.

The Israelites allowed that grasshopper mentality to cloud their judgment and turned their focus on themselves instead of God. Those 10 spies never once thought of how powerful their God was or of what they had already witnessed Him do. They only thought of their own power, which was/will always be lacking. We were never meant to be independent creatures, especially not independent of God. This is what the Israelites did. They thought of themselves as independent of God when it came to taking Canaan. When we think like this (and we do, it’s not just an Israelite thing) we are grasshoppers. It’s Caleb and Joshua who got it right. Who kept their thinking straight. Who didn’t let the grasshopper version of themselves take over. They remembered who had already given them the land for the taking. They remembered, “the Lord is with us; do not fear.” Their grasshopper thinking, if they even had any, didn’t stick around for long, because they returned to the One that is perpetually stronger and bigger than it all.

Where do we turn in our grasshopper moments? To ourselves and our own power, or lack thereof? To our Egypt? Go back to what we already know because we feel like familiarity on our own is safer than the unknown with God? Or do we turn to God? Do we live a Philippians 4:13 life? Where we learn to lean on and trust God, even in the grasshopper moments where we certainly feel much less than content and strong.

A lot of us participate in our spiritual life like I run a physical mile. We slowly meander around, thinking we’ve got everything under control because we’re in charge until someone blows a whistle and forces our attention to the matter at hand. Then we’re unabashedly reminded of how weak and incompetent we really are. And how poorly we’ve been running the race on our own. I hope that God allows you a whistle-blowing moment. A moment that forces you to test your strength. Not your physical strength, I’ll leave that to the ropes and PE teachers. But a moment that tests your strength in God. A moment that forces you to assess where you are with God and how much you allow yourself to be intimate with Him. Because I’m guessing you’re a lot like me – and we aren’t as good as we think we are. I lived a lot of my life thinking I had it all answered. I had it planned. I could give myself everything I needed.

Then the whistle blew.

And the adoption began and I realized how weak I truly was in all the ways I thought I was strong. But there’s something so beautiful in being brought low…the rebuilding, rebranding, and resubmission that takes place as a grasshopper means you come out truly strong in the end. No longer a rope climbing strong, but a cross-carrying strong. And that, my sweet sister, is a serious kind of strong.

I am stronger now. My marriage is stronger. My friendships are stronger. My faith is stronger. My work for the Lord is stronger. Because my whistle-blowing moment forced me to refocus my life around God and His power, instead of around myself and my feeble strength. I will forever be thankful for this grasshopper episode in my life. This doesn’t mean I don’t ever struggle. Let’s be real here, I just spent a full page divulging my elementary PE failures, of course, I still struggle. But like Joshua and Caleb, I’m trying to live a God-centered life. And that is no easy task. That is true godly strength. That’s our goal. God has wonderful-heavenly plans for us. For our own land of milk and honey. But like the Israelites, we focus on our own weakness, our own earthy shattered dreams instead of obtaining the abundant John 10:10 life.

So when your whistle blows and it’s time to grow, be a grasshopper for only a brief while before you turn to God to rebuild your life and become strong in ways you never thought possible. Toss out your preconceived plans and answers, and truly live with the fact that “the Lord is with us; do not fear.” Understand that you do not face this life alone. Take on your Canaan. Forget your Egypt.

We’re all grasshoppers on our own, but with God, your beautiful story of strength is just beginning…