I’ve learned that weakness is not something to hide from God; it’s something to bring to Him. We are frail people. We faint. There are seasons when the battle wears a person down—not only physically, but spiritually and emotionally as well. That is why this truth means so much to me: God gives power to the faint.

I am grateful for that promise, because there have been times in my own life when I have fainted—times when I felt like giving up. Ministry is difficult, and there are pressures on a preacher that many never see or fully understand. Yet this is not just a preacher’s struggle. Every person carries burdens, often quietly, tucked away deep in the heart. And it is to people like us—faint, weary, and worn—that God promises His strength.

Waiting spiritually is staying put when everything inside you wants to run ahead. I’ve felt that pull—when the heart wants instant relief, instant clarity, instant change. I think the best way to put it is, “It’s drawing nigh to God and then waiting for God to draw nigh to us.” That phrase has stayed with me because it describes what I’ve seen: there is a quiet exchange in the waiting.

As I admit my weakness and seek God in prayer, God revives and renews strength. The word “renew” carries the idea of sprouting again—a kind of revival. That’s not something I manufacture. That’s something God supplies. Waiting becomes the place where God gives what others cannot, and where He provides what I cannot create by effort.

If you’ve ever said, “I’m just tired,” you’re exactly the kind of person this verse is speaking to. Not to shame you— to help you. God knows and cares. And He has strength for the faint.