Honest contemplations...

I went for a walk today. I was only going to go around the “block,” but ended up walking much farther than that. I walked for over an hour and a half. Why? It was one of those Forrest Gump moments: “I just felt like runnin’.” I often venture out on such trips of solitude, with only my thoughts to keep me company.
And lots of thoughts I have to occupy myself. See, I’m a thinker. And somehow I’m such a big thinker that it ended up in the top five of my “strengths” (“intellect” they call it)...though I often wonder how good this quality of mine is. There is such a thing as thinking too much…

My thoughts….oh varied in nature…but with one central theme. And, oh, here’s my warning: get ready for some honesty straight from the heart and mind of Kelly Berg. I am so weak. Now, I realize that this is nothing new and nothing uncommon, but it’s just resting a bit heavily right now. I like to be strong. I’ve had to be strong. Having been already broken from relying on my own strength already this year, I don’t come close to wanting to have to go through such a lesson again, however good it was to learn.

It’s different now, anyway. Weakness, as with many things, can take different forms.

I need to fight but have no strength. Drained. Slightly empty from a lack of being filled (partially from my own laziness, partially from circumstances). Before I needed to learn to not fight my own battles. Now I’m being called to do a little warring in prayer and be a bit more vigilant in the mind. Did you know that “Kelly” means “warrior"? Not mistakenly do I bear such a name. I’m to put on the full armor of God…Gird up the loins of my mind. The enemy is real. I don’t fight alone, but I do need to fight. It takes effort. Will I be so lazy and accept defeat? Or, really…will I accept my weakness as my defeat?

I know His strength is perfected in my weakness. I know my times of weakness are His times of glory. I know He is at my right hand (my fighting hand). I know He has given my the instruments to victory.

But they’re heavy. And I am weak. So weak.

He is my hope. I have none other.