You’ve heard the saying: “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Maybe you heard it in a song lyric, followed by some form of “And that’s why I acted like an ass,” as if weak flesh somehow excuses crappy behavior.
Y’all got the meaning of that saying all twisted. It’s not supposed to function as an excuse; it’s supposed to be a recognition of who’s really in charge of everything. Of course the spirit is willing. That’s God. Of course the flesh is weak. That’s human–by definition. The whole point of the saying is that the spirit is what moves you, not your flesh. You’re supposed to give control to that which can control anything at all, the spirit, and you’re supposed to let your weak human flesh go limp. Your flesh will always be weak. Getting right with God ain’t gonna change that, not ever.
As I mentioned in my last post, I ain’t nothing. My flesh is weak. I need God. He’s willing. He’s willing to move me, to guide me, to counsel me. He’s willing to use me as an instrument of love, peace, and joy. He’s willing to fix me, to open my eyes, to unblock my ears, and loosen my tongue in the name of goodwill towards all. He’s willing to let me mess up over and over and over again as I consciously and doggedly fight and destroy and die and suffer and suffer–and he’s willing to save me from all this B.S. in a single instant.
The only thing that is required of my weak flesh in that instant is that I accept spirit’s infinite and gentle Love.
That Love is addictive.