The Strength You Need When You Don't Know What To Do

Message Summary

What was your favorite cartoon growing up? What have you got? Darkwing Duck. Rescue Rangers. DuckTales. TaleSpin. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. G.I. Joe. For me, the crown jewel was none other than He-Man. What captured my imagination—and still captures the imagination of kids today—was a simple idea: ordinary people could possess extraordinary strength.

Think about it. Prince Adam raises his sword and becomes He-Man. Puny Steve Rogers enters a machine and emerges as Captain America. Bruce Banner gets angry and becomes the Incredible Hulk. Peter Parker gets bitten by a spider and goes from nerdy teenager to friendly neighborhood crime-fighting hero. Popeye eats a can of spinach. Mario finds the right mushroom. The Power Rangers start morphing—and suddenly ordinary people possess extraordinary strength.

Secretly, we want life to work like that, don’t we? We want something to happen that just makes us strong. We want the sword, the serum, the spinach, the mushroom—whatever it takes. We want to wake up one morning and discover that we finally have all the strength we need. Of course, that isn’t how real life works. None of you has ever been bitten by a spider and discovered great results. If you get bitten by a radioactive spider, you need to go to Urgent Care. Please do that. Do not wait around to see whether you can climb walls.

But what if extraordinary strength really were available to ordinary people?

Not the kind of strength needed to catch a falling building. The kind of strength we actually need. The strength to forgive. The strength to tell the truth when a lie would be easier. The strength to confess that we were wrong. The strength to face what we have been avoiding. The strength to remain faithful when nothing is changing. The strength to keep going when we are exhausted. The strength to release the outcome we cannot control. The strength to lsay, “I don’t know what to do.” Because that requires strength too. We tend to think strength means always having the answer, always holding everything together, and never allowing anyone to see us struggle. We think being strong means carrying every burden without dropping anything. There’s a difference between something being bad for you and something being hard for you. If something is bad you need to walk away from it. But if something is hard for you, you need strength.

Is there a way for us to experience real strength? 

In 2 Chronicles 20, King Jehoshaphat and the people of Judah face a crisis that is far too large for them. An enormous army is coming. They can’t overpower it. Can’t outmaneuver it. Can’t control what happens next. Jehoshaphat does not raise a sword and transform into a superhero. He doesn’t discover some hidden power within himself. He does, however, walk with the kind of godly strength you and I need on a regular basis. Turn to 2 Chronicles 20.

2 Chronicles 20:1-3—After this, the Moabites and Ammonites with some of the Meunites came to wage war against Jehoshaphat. 2 Some people came and told Jehoshaphat, “A vast army is coming against you from Edom, from the other side of the Dead Sea. It is already in Hazezon Tamar” (that is, En Gedi). 3 Alarmed, Jehoshaphat resolved to inquire of the Lord, and he proclaimed a fast for all Judah.

AFTER THIS—The writer of Chronicles summarizes all that had come before with “after this.” King Jehoshaphat had recently made a terrible treaty with King Ahab, a wicked king. This was a political alliance and Jehoshaphat was marrying his son to Ahab’s daughter. Why would you do that? Most likely to create a stronger military or to create stronger trade. King Jehoshaphat attempted to manufacture strength. They are drawn into a war and Jehoshaphat attempts to draw strength from his ungodly alliance. They are defeated and Jehoshaphat is rebuked. And it has everything to do with strength. Most likely sensing weakness, some of the surrounding nations attempt to dispossess Judah from the land. They decide to attack and surprise…Jehoshaphat is in another war. But this time things are different. Jehoshaphat seeks the Lord. Declares a fast. 

2 Chronicles 20:4-6–4 The people of Judah came together to seek help from the Lord; indeed, they came from every town in Judah to seek him. 5 Then Jehoshaphat stood up in the assembly of Judah and Jerusalem at the temple of the Lord in the front of the new courtyard 6 and said: “Lord, the God of our ancestors, are you not the God who is in heaven? You rule over all the kingdoms of the nations. Power and might are in your hand, and no one can withstand you. 

2 Chronicles 20:12– Our God, will you not judge them? For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

One of the greatest prayers you can ever pray is this. 

2 Chronicles 20:12—“I don’t know what to do, but my eyes are on you.”

Jehoshaphat is the king. He’s supposed to know what to do, right? He’s the Grand pooba. The leader. But he says what so many of us are afraid to acknowledge. “I don’t know what to do.” Can we pump the brakes for a second, church? Because this isn’t the kind of acknowledgment we’re using to hearing these days. Strength is having it all figured out. Strength is being the business man or woman with the incredible success story. They built an empire based solely on their business acumen. Strength is having a family where the marriage is perfect and there is never a problem with kids. That is NEVER the scenario. That doesn’t exist, despite the image so many of us put forth or the image we think we’re supposed to strive after. Can I take a load off your shoulders today? Every great parent I’ve ever sat with has been forced on occasion after occasion after occasion to say: “I don’t really know what to do.” Every great marriage has difficult moments and difficult seasons. Single? Student? Entrepreneur? Just graduate? It doesn’t matter what season of life you’re in, everyone is faced with situations that leave them saying “God I don’t know what to do.” You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to present a front in order to be faithful. The reality is this: God will regularly bring you to places where not only do you not have the answers you can’t have all the answers. You aren’t allowed to have the answers. Because God is drawing you to a place of humility. And here lies the secret to godly strength. 

True strength begins with humility.

The apostle Paul’s situation is similar. Something is wrong. We don’t really know what, but Paul describes it as a “thorn in the flesh.” He asked God to take it away but God doesn’t.

2 Corinthians 12:8-10—8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul was defending his ministry because so many equated spiritual strength with charisma and credentials. With success. Yet God allowed an unidentified “thorn in the flesh” to keep him humble and dependent. Paul pleaded three times for its removal, but Christ promised sufficient grace instead. His weakness did not magically become strength; it became the place where Christ’s strength was most clearly displayed. Paul therefore stopped viewing weakness as proof of failure and received it as an opportunity to depend on Christ:

Powerless. Uncertainty. Weakness. This doesn’t sound like strength. But what if this isn’t the language of defeat? What if it’s the language of dependence? Thankfully, Jehoshaphat’s story doesn’t end with not knowing what to do. “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.”

2 Chronicles 20:12—…“Our eyes are on you.”

Our eyes are not on the size of our army. Our eyes are not on the strength of our weapons. Our eyes are not on our ability to create the perfect strategy. Our eyes are on you. Church, whatever holds your attention will eventually shape your sense of reality. If all you can see is the diagnosis, the diagnosis will appear sovereign. If all you can see is the bank account, the number will appear sovereign. If all you can see is the person who hurt you, their actions will appear sovereign. If all you can see is the decision you have to make, the pressure to get it right will consume you. Turning your eyes toward God does not mean pretending the army isn’t there. It means refusing to view the army without also seeing the God who rules over it.

Listen again to how Jehoshaphat begins his prayer:

2 Chronicles 20:6—“Are you not the God who is in heaven? You rule over all the kingdoms of the nations. Power and might are in your hand, and no one can withstand you.”

Before Jehoshaphat tells God how big the battle is, he reminds himself how big God is. He rehearses who God is. He remembers what God has done. He relies upon what God has promised. This is dependence.

If true strength begins with humility, it is sustained through dependance. 

It is waking up and saying, “God, I need your wisdom for this conversation. I need your patience to raise these children. I need your grace to forgive. I need your courage to tell the truth. I need your strength to remain faithful. I cannot manufacture what today requires, so my eyes are on you.” Some of us are exhausted because our eyes have been everywhere except on God. We have looked at every possibility, rehearsed every worst-case scenario, read every opinion, and attempted to control every outcome. We are overwhelmed by what we see because we have forgotten where to look.

You may not know what to do, but you can always know where to look. 

And when your eyes turn toward God, you begin to receive a strength you could never manufacture on your own.

Psalm 121:1-2—I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from?2 My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.

Jehoshaphat understood this. Paul understood this. David understood this. And most importantly, Jesus understood this. Jesus never confused strength with independence. He prayed. He listened. He waited. He obeyed. In Gethsemane, Jesus did not pretend the cup was easy to carry. He admitted the anguish, asked whether it could be removed, and then placed himself into his Father’s hands. “Not my will, but yours be done.” If the perfect Son of God demonstrated strength through dependence upon the Father, why would we imagine that spiritual maturity means needing God less? Jehoshaphat prayed, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” Jesus prayed, “Not my will, but yours be done.” Both prayers say the same thing…”Father in heaven, I depend on you.”

And this is how we experience the strength that only God provides. We start with humility and continue through dependance. And this is how we experience the strength only God can provide. We begin with humility and continue in dependence. Humility says, “I don’t know what to do.” Dependence says, “But my eyes are on you.” 

If you knew you had only 38 minutes left, you would stop pretending you had everything under control. You would stop wasting strength trying to protect an image, manage everyone’s opinion, and carry outcomes that belong to God. You would recognize how little control you have always possessed—and you would turn your eyes toward the One who has held you all along. But you do not have to wait until the end is in sight to live with that kind of clarity. This is not a drill. You can stop pretending today. You can admit that you don’t have the answer. You can release the responsibility of being strong enough for everything. You can turn your eyes toward God and say: “Father, I don’t know what to do about this marriage, but my eyes are on you. “I don’t know what to do about my child, but my eyes are on you. “I don’t know what to do about this diagnosis, but my eyes are on you. “I don’t know what to do about my future, but my eyes are on you. “I don’t know how to carry this grief, resist this temptation, forgive this person, or face another day—but my eyes are on you.” You may not know what to do, but you can always know where to look.