I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Philippians 4:13 NIV
Choose your metaphor:
The current is too swift, the waters too muddy, my boat too small.
The west is too far, the wagon train too slow to cross this trackless wilderness in the time I have left.
The mountain is too young, its slopes too steep and rugged for this old mountain climber.
The weapons are too heavy, too awkward, too sharp; my battle steed is a wild bucking bronco.
The words are too new for these old ears, the landscape too strange for these old eyes. And this old brain? Don’t even go there.
Sigh. Can anyone relate?
I’m a word nerd. I like learning new words and the cultural nuances of their meanings—but there’s one foreign language that eludes me: Computerese. I will never be a computer nerd.
My handle is No-Tech Nanny.
Every time I try to launch into the muddy current, I’m swept away, over the falls and into a whirlpool of meaningless words. Every time I step onto a foothill, the ground gives way in a mudslide. Every time I lift these new weapons, I’m the one who is wounded.
But my God wants me on the other side of that wilderness, across that river, standing high on the mountain of victory.
The battle is not mine, but His. The journey is not mine, but ours. The destination to Him is as close as His next thought. He will make a roadway through the wilderness. The mountain to Him is but a footstool, the raging river but a mud puddle. He who walked on the stormy Sea of Galilee can surely take my hand as He took Peter’s, and lead me across a mere puddle. The weapons to Him are pocket knives. He will train my hands to use them. If I need an armor bearer, He will provide. And the wild horse? Hey, my God can handle Leviathan!
I have a God-given purpose—and I am failing—but I have this promise: whatever He gives me to do, He will do through me. He will help me. Whatever weapons I need, He will provide. And, He will teach me to use them—or provide a weapons bearer, someone with more computer savvy, more marketing savvy, to share that part of my load. He gives me strength to keep on keeping on.
He is the Word, and the Creator of every word—even Computerese. If I need an interpreter, He will provide.
So, my hand in His, I’ve left No-Tech Nanny in an unmarked grave by the side of the trail. My new handle is (Imagine a game show host shouting into his mike) Tyroooooo* Techie!
Now watch us, my Father and me, as we build this blog together.
Father, I need You to hold my hand pretty tight here. I smell the enemy, but I can’t see where we’re going, and I still don’t know how to even hold these sharp weapons You’ve given me. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Tyro: a rookie Roman soldier.