After 20 years in youth ministry, my husband has weathered his fair share of injuries on the job. Most recently, he was involved in a competitive outdoor game when he twisted his foot. Playing through the pain, he conceded to his injury only after winning the contest. He limped to a nearby place to sit down and carefully remove his sock, only to see his ankle quickly swelling past the size of an orange. A trip to the hospital revealed it wasn’t broken, but he soon realized it would take time before his foot could bear weight once again.

Pain often serves as a reminder of our limitations. To those of us who pride ourselves on our independence and feel most comfortable being in control, we don’t relish the pain when it reminds us we’re vulnerable. Instead of admitting our need, we “play through the pain,” if not to convince ourselves then to assure others that we can handle whatever comes our way. No one likes to feel weak.

The whole crux of the gospel, however, rests on our desperate need and the insufficiency of our own resources. Pride keeps us from admitting our needs, much less our failures. But until we’re willing to deal with those things, we cut ourselves off from the fullness of the power of Christ in our lives.

Strength for the believer looks far different than what the world professes. “[Jesus] gave up His divine privileges . . . and was born as a human being” (Philippians 2:7) in the greatest show of power the heavens have ever witnessed (2 Corinthians 13:4). We gain strength when we see difficulties—and our weaknesses—as a means for His power to be at work in us (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

It’s the difference between limping and running (Isaiah 40:29-31).

NLT 365-day reading plan passage for today: Job 42:1-17