I am often reminded that my body is not whole. I am reminded when I step out of bed and my heart rate jumps to 150 bpm. I am reminded when the only thing I have energy for is sleep. I am reminded when the room starts to spin, and my legs turn purple, and my toes go numb. 

I’m sure those with broken bodies understand this; sickness steals. It cancels plans, ruins days, and crushes dreams. There is no certainty of what tomorrow will look like—and if it’s anything like yesterday, it’s not great. Illness isolates, causes heartaches, and wedges itself into everything. It is simply hard. It feels like every step, every decision, weighs fifty pounds heavier than it should. 

But through my years of following Jesus while chronically ill, I’ve learned that sickness cannot steal hope. It cannot steal joy. It cannot steal peace. My hope, joy, and peace do not come from what is temporary. They do not come from a pain-free body, the certainty of tomorrow, or goals being met. My hope, joy, and peace come from the things unseen.

Working in a preschool and chasing giggling toddlers is where I know the Lord has placed me. I’ve received the most wonderful blessings in that brick school. I’ve gained friendships I would not trade for the world. I’ve had the privilege of caring for and loving the most incredible children. I’ve grown nearer to my Savior, both in the quiet room before the children arrive, where the only sound is the buzzing of Chompers tank (the classroom’s pet turtle), and in the chaos of outdoor water balloon fights, and “Danny Go” dance breaks.

Sadly, this job was not always kind to my body. Driving to the school on warm summer mornings, I would come before the Lord saying, “Father, I don’t know if I have the strength to do it today, but I know You do. Provide the strength.” Each day, I was faced with trusting God for provision—and, in some way or another, He would provide. Some days, He would strengthen me, and I could do the whole day. Other times, He put it on one of my beloved sisters’ hearts to cover the rest of my shift. Some days, the toddlers were just much calmer than they should have been. On many days I would go home, and sleep. Eventually, I couldn’t keep up, and the Lord provided the most wonderful change: I became a substitute.

In 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, Paul writes:
“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (ESV)

Though our outer selves waste away, we are given the opportunity for our inner selves to be renewed day by day. We can be renewed in our trusting of Him. I have found that in my weakness and in my lack, I am most aware of my need for the strength and power of the Holy Spirit. My weakness makes me dependent—dependent on the strength and provision of the King. I am dependent on His going before me and fighting on my behalf. My weakness keeps me seeking, and He keeps showing up with the resources I need. I have learned, through my weakness and inability, to rely on the Lord—and oh, how sweet that is. The most serene and joyous of places. My weakness gives me strength, because my weakness brings me closer to Him.

God’s promises have been my hope: the promises of future resurrection, treasures stored in heaven, and eternal weights of glory. The promise of more of Him to those who seek Him. There has not been one time in the last 18 years of my life that trusting in the unseen realities of God’s Word has left me ashamed. It hasn’t looked anything like I thought it would. There have been moments of wincing back wondering, “God, you say even this will work out for good?” I am reminded time and again that it does. I have questioned what He is doing, given over my trust little by little, but He has proven Himself faithful. He has been faithful. He has been good. He has been the strength. He has been a refuge. He has been trustworthy. He has not changed. He will not change. He is a strong, eternal foundation.

Edward Mote, the writer of the famous hymn “My Hope Is Built On Nothing Less,” writes:

“My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name
When darkness veils His lovely face
I rest on His unchanging grace
In every high and stormy gale
My anchor holds within the veil
His oath, His covenant, His blood
Supports me in the ‘whelming flood
When all around my soul gives way
He then is all my hope and stay
When He shall come with trumpet sound
Oh may I then in Him be found
Dressed in His righteousness alone
Faultless to stand before the throne
On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
All other ground is sinking sand”

My friends, do not set your hope on anything less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness. Do not build your foundation on that which does not last. You are bound to lose heart, when the wind blows and the foundation falls. Instead, build your life upon that which does not fail. You can place your trust fully in Jesus, he is the solid rock. He will prove himself faithful when the wind blows and your foundation is firm. 

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Elizabeth, who goes by Lizzy, is a devoted follower of Christ with a passion for exploring the depths of biblical theology and its application to everyday life. With a heart for sharing personal insights and encouraging others in their faith, Lizzy blends theological reflection with practical application. Raised in a Christian home, she gave her life to Christ at the age of four and began studying the Bible on her own at twelve. Now eighteen, Lizzy is committed to encouraging others to seek to know the Living God through Scripture and the transformative power of Jesus.