When You Have No Strength Left

When The Battle Has Drained You And You Wonder How Much Longer You Can Keep Going—God Does Not Ask You To Manufacture Strength You Do Not Have; He Himself Is Your Strength And He Will Make Your Way Secure
Scripture References — 2 Samuel 22:33 • Psalm 18:32
“God is my strength and power, And He makes my way perfect.”
“It is God who arms me with strength, And makes my way perfect.”
Production — Strength for the Man Who Has None Left
There comes a point in nearly every long battle when a man realizes, “I don't have enough strength for this.”
Prison can bring a man to that point.
I have a dear incarcerated friend who has now been down now for 33 years. Recently, he went before the parole board again, and those of us who know him were convinced that this time he would finally be found suitable for release. Everything seemed to be in place.
He had maintained an excellent disciplinary record, completed dozens of courses and programs that had been asked of him, demonstrated years of personal growth, and prepared a solid parole packet that clearly showed both his readiness for release and a realistic plan for succeeding once he returned home.
After more than three decades behind the walls, there was genuine reason to hope.
And then—once again—he was denied.
Another denial. Another crushing disappointment. Another door slammed shut after years of preparation, growth, prayer, and waiting. To him, it felt as though the decision had been made before the first word was ever spoken.
My friend is a strong believer in Jesus Christ. He knows the Scriptures. He knows that God is sovereign. He knows that God's plans cannot be overturned by a parole board, a prison administration, a judge, or any other human authority.
But knowing those truths does not mean that disappointment doesn't hurt.
Sometimes faith hurts. Sometimes waiting hurts. Sometimes trusting God hurts.
This denial tested him deeply, and he freely admits that it was devastating.
I have tried to encourage him as best I can, but there are moments when words seem painfully inadequate. What do you say to a man who has already heard, “Hang in there,” a thousand times? What do you say after 33 years when he has done everything asked of him, only to hear the word “denied” again?
During a recent phone call, he said something I haven't been able to forget:
“Brother Gregg, I have no strength left right now.”
I understood exactly what he meant.
I may not know what it is like to spend 33 years behind prison walls, but I do know something about reaching the place where your own strength seems to be gone.
During the 14-plus years of my own affliction, I have traveled that road many times. There have been seasons when the pain, weakness, disappointment, and uncertainty have left me wondering how much more I could endure.
And perhaps you know that road too.
Maybe it was a parole denial.
Maybe it was another court decision that went against you.
Maybe it was the death of someone you loved.
Maybe your wife finally said she couldn't wait any longer.
Maybe your children stopped writing.
Maybe you've watched another birthday come and go behind these walls and realized just how much time has passed.
Maybe you prayed earnestly for something to change—and nothing changed.
And somewhere deep inside, perhaps you have whispered the same words:
“Lord, I have no strength left.”
If so, 2 Samuel 22:33 was written for moments like these.
David knew something about long battles. He knew what it was to wait while God's promises seemed delayed. He knew betrayal, danger, grief, disappointment, fear, failure, and years of uncertainty. There were times when David could do nothing but run, hide, pray, and wait.
Yet when David eventually looked back across the battlefield of his life, he did not say:
“Look how strong I was.”
He said:
“God is my strength and power, And He makes my way perfect.”
That may be one of the greatest lessons God will ever teach us.
There comes a time when our strength ends—but God's strength does not.
There comes a time when our resources are exhausted—but His resources remain infinite.
There comes a time when we cannot see another step forward—but God already knows the entire road.
Perhaps the most important word in 2 Samuel 22:33 is not even “strength.”
Perhaps it is “my.”
“God is MY strength.”
David was no longer speaking simply of the strength God had given him; he was testifying that through years of suffering, waiting, warfare, and deliverance, he had learned to depend upon God as his strength. Every battle had taught him the same truth: when David's strength failed, God's strength remained.
God does not merely hand strength to His exhausted children and send them back into the battle alone.
He Himself becomes their strength.
So perhaps my friend's words—and maybe yours—are not the end of the story:
“I have no strength left.”
Maybe that is precisely where another confession begins:
“Then, Lord, I must depend completely upon Yours.”
And that brings us directly to David's testimony:
“God is my strength and power.”
The Christian's hope has never been:
“I am strong enough to handle whatever comes.”
Our hope is infinitely better:
“When I am not strong enough, my God still is.”
Years of prison ministry have taught me many undeniable truths about life. One day can bring an amazing praise report—an answered prayer, a parole date, a restored relationship, or news that someone we have prayed for is finally coming home. You rejoice, you thank God, and you want to hold on to that moment.
But sometimes it seems there is hardly enough time to cherish the joy of the good news before the next day brings a report of sorrow.
And some reports are much harder than others.
Yesterday was one of those days.
The news came in the form of a phone call from the wife of a man I had come to know during his 26 years of incarceration. I knew his wife well, too. After all those years behind the walls, Casper had finally been released and had now been home for five years.
This summer brought another milestone worth celebrating: he was finally discharged from parole. He was completely free.
Casper loved motorcycles. He was an avid rider, a leader in his motorcycle club, and anyone who followed him on Facebook knew how much he enjoyed sharing stories and pictures from his rides, trips, and adventures. After spending 26 years with someone else determining where he could go and what he could do, there was something especially meaningful about seeing him out on the open road, enjoying the freedom he had waited so many years to experience.
Then came yesterday's phone call.
From the moment his wife began speaking, there was something in the tone of her voice that caused me to take a deep breath. Before she even told me why she was calling, I knew something was terribly wrong.
Casper had been in Reno attending a motorcycle event when he was involved in a horrific accident.
He was killed instantly.
She told me that he did not suffer and that he died doing something he truly loved.
What do you say after news like that?
Jesus told His disciples, “In the world you will have tribulation” (John 16:33). After all these years, I certainly know the truth of those words. But knowing that sorrow is part of living in a fallen world does not somehow make us accustomed to receiving news like this. I don't think we are supposed to become accustomed to it.
You don't get used to a wife telling you that her husband isn't coming home.
You don't get used to hearing that a man who spent 26 years longing for freedom finally received it, enjoyed five precious years outside the walls, celebrated the end of parole—and then, suddenly, was gone.
There are some things for which the heart simply cannot rehearse.
Years of ministry have taught me that another day will come, and I never really know what that day will bring. It may bring an extraordinary answer to prayer. It may bring a phone call that fills the room with joy. Or it may bring a phone call that leaves you sitting quietly afterward, trying to absorb what you have just heard.
So I try to remain prepared for whatever comes my way—not by becoming hardened to sorrow, but by remembering how precious life is, how quickly circumstances can change, and how deeply the people God places along our path can become part of our lives.
Yesterday, another day brought sorrow.
And this time, his name was Casper.
You may have entered prison believing you were strong enough to handle anything. You learned how to survive. You learned whom to trust and whom not to trust. You learned how to hide weakness, control your emotions, and make it through one more day.
But years have a way of wearing a man down.
Another lockdown. Another disappointment. Another parole denial. Another family member who stops writing. Another birthday behind the walls. Another Christmas away from your children. Another friend transferred—or buried. Another night lying on a bunk wondering how many more years you can do this.
Eventually human strength runs out.
And strangely enough, that can become one of the most important moments of your spiritual life.
David understood this.
Second Samuel 22 records David's song of praise after God had delivered him from his enemies and from Saul. David had known warfare, rejection, betrayal, fear, grief, and personal failure. He had spent years running for his life.
Yet when David looked back, he didn't say:
“Look how strong I was.”
He said:
“God is my strength and power.”
David discovered something every believer eventually must learn:
God never intended for you to survive the Christian life on your own strength.
There are burdens you cannot carry alone.
There are temptations you cannot conquer by determination alone.
There are wounds you cannot heal by pretending they don't hurt.
There are circumstances you cannot change.
And there are seasons when simply getting through another day seems beyond your strength.
That is why 2 Samuel 22:33 is such an extraordinary promise.
“God is my strength and power, and He makes my way perfect.”
Notice David doesn't merely say God gives him strength.
He says: – “God IS my strength.”
There is a difference.
When your strength disappears, God has not disappeared.
When your courage fails, God has not failed.
When you cannot see tomorrow, God already stands in tomorrow.
The Christian's hope is not:
“I am strong enough.”
It is:
“My God is strong enough.”
And sometimes God allows us to reach the end of ourselves so that we finally discover the sufficiency of Him.
Main Point #1 — God Is Your Strength, Not Merely the Source of It
David's declaration is intensely personal:
“God is MY strength and power.”
He had learned this through experience.
David knew what it was like to face circumstances far greater than himself. As a young man, he stood before Goliath when everyone else saw an impossible opponent.
Later, David spent years fleeing Saul. He hid in caves. He lived among enemies. He experienced betrayal within his own family.
Again and again, David's circumstances exceeded David's ability.
But they never exceeded God's ability.
That distinction matters.
Many people believe Christianity means God helps strong people become a little stronger.
Scripture teaches something much deeper.
God strengthens people who recognize their weakness.
Paul discovered the same truth when Christ told him:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
The world teaches us to hide weakness.
Prison culture can especially reinforce that idea. Showing weakness can feel dangerous. Men learn to keep their guard up. Pain gets buried. Fear gets disguised. Tears are swallowed.
But you cannot approach God that way.
God already knows when you hurt and where you hurt.
He knows what frightens you.
He knows the temptation you keep fighting.
He knows how tired you are.
And He isn't asking you to impress Him with your toughness.
He is asking you to trust Him.
You can come before God and say:
“Lord, I don't have the strength for this.”
That isn't necessarily unbelief.
Sometimes it is the beginning of genuine faith.
Because the next sentence can be:
“But You do.”
Main Point #2 — God's Strength Is Often Discovered in the Battle
Second Samuel 22 was written from the perspective of a man looking backward.
David could now see something he probably could not always see while he was living through it:
God had been carrying him.
Think about that.
While David was hiding in caves, God was there.
While Saul was hunting him, God was there.
When David was frightened, God was there.
When David failed miserably and needed repentance, God was there.
When David buried people he loved, God was there.
David's life wasn't evidence that God's people escape trouble.
It was evidence that God remains faithful to His people through trouble.
You may be experiencing something today that makes absolutely no sense.
You have prayed for a door to open, but it remains closed.
You have prayed for your sentence to change, but nothing has happened.
You have prayed for reconciliation, but the relationship remains broken.
You have prayed for relief, yet the battle continues.
Don't automatically interpret difficulty as God's absence.
Some of God's greatest work happens in places we would never voluntarily choose.
Joseph had a prison.
Daniel had a lions' den.
Jeremiah had a dungeon.
Paul and Silas had chains.
John had Patmos.
David had caves.
Yet none of those places were beyond the reach of God.
And neither is your cell.
You may someday look backward at this season and realize:
“I thought I was barely holding onto God—but all along, God was holding onto me.”
Main Point #3 — God Gives Strength for the Next Step, Not Always the Entire Journey
David continues:
“And He makes my way perfect.”
The idea is not that God makes David's life comfortable or trouble-free. David's life certainly wasn't either.
Rather, God was directing, establishing, and equipping David for the road He had appointed for him.
We often want God to show us the entire road.
God frequently gives enough light for the next step.
That can be especially difficult when you are incarcerated.
You want to know:
When will I go home?
Will my appeal succeed?
Will my family still be there?
Will I ever receive parole?
What will happen to my children?
Can God possibly use the years I have left?
Sometimes there simply isn't an answer yet.
Faith means trusting God when He gives you today's grace without explaining tomorrow's plan.
Jesus taught us to pray for daily bread.
Not next year's bread.
Today's.
God may not give you strength today for the next twenty years.
But He will give you grace for today.
Then tomorrow, there will be new mercy.
That means you don't have to carry your entire sentence this morning.
You don't have to solve your entire future tonight.
You don't have to understand everything God is doing.
Take the next faithful step.
Read His Word.
Pray.
Repent where repentance is needed.
Forgive someone.
Encourage another man.
Resist today's temptation.
Obey what you already know God has commanded.
Then get up tomorrow and trust Him again.
Sometimes perseverance is nothing more dramatic than faithfully taking one God-given step after another.
Main Point #4 — God's Strength Has a Purpose Beyond Your Survival
There is another important truth in David's words.
God didn't strengthen David merely so David could survive.
God had purposes for his life.
The same is true for you.
You may look around your housing unit and think:
“What purpose could God possibly have for me here?”
Never underestimate what God can do through one faithful man in a dark place.
Someone around you is watching.
Someone is watching how you respond when you're disrespected.
Someone notices whether you participate in gossip.
Someone sees whether your Christianity disappears when pressure comes.
Someone may be watching how you handle bad news.
Someone may hear you speak about Christ.
Someone may eventually approach you quietly and say:
“I need to talk.”
Your incarceration does not automatically cancel your usefulness to God.
Paul wrote some of the New Testament from confinement.
His chains became opportunities for the gospel.
Perhaps God is strengthening you not simply so that you can make it through prison, but so that He can use you while you are in prison.
There is a tremendous difference.
Don't waste the strength God gives you.
Use it to serve.
Use it to forgive.
Use it to encourage.
Use it to stand for truth.
Use it to resist temptation.
Use it to disciple someone younger in the faith.
Use it to become the man God intends you to become.
And when someone asks how you have survived everything you've been through, don't point to yourself.
Point where David pointed:
“God is my strength and power.”
Prison Application — When Your Cell Becomes the Place You Learn God's Strength
Brother, perhaps you are reading this devotional on one of those days when you are simply exhausted.
Not just physically tired.
Soul tired.
You've been fighting so long that you don't know how much fight you have left.
Then 2 Samuel 22:33 is for you.
You do not need to pretend before God.
Tell Him exactly where you are.
“Father, I am tired.”
“I am discouraged.”
“I am angry.”
“I am afraid.”
“I don't understand what You're doing.”
“I don't know whether I can keep going.”
And then remember:
“God is my strength and power.”
Your weakness does not frighten God.
Your circumstances do not overwhelm Him.
The walls surrounding you do not restrict Him.
The officer controlling the door does not control God.
The parole board does not control God.
The court does not control God.
Your enemies do not control God.
Your past does not control God.
God remains God.
So don't measure tomorrow by the amount of strength you feel today.
Your resources may be exhausted.
His are not.
You may feel empty.
He is not.
You may be weak.
He is not.
You may not know the way forward.
He does.
Perhaps your prayer today doesn't need to be complicated.
Perhaps it is simply:
“Lord, I have no strength left. Be my strength.”
And then get up and take the next step.
Final Thought — You Don't Have to Be Strong Enough
Some of you have spent your entire life trying to be strong.
Strong for your family.
Strong on the streets.
Strong in court.
Strong on the yard.
Strong in front of other men.
Strong enough that nobody could hurt you again.
But the gospel introduces us to another kind of strength.
It is the strength of a man who can finally admit:
“I need God.”
David had warriors.
David had weapons.
David had victories.
David eventually had a throne.
Yet when he looked back over everything, he knew where his survival had really come from:
“God is my strength and power.”
Maybe that is the lesson God wants burned into our hearts.
Not:
“Look what I survived.”
But:
“Look Who carried me.”
There may still be battles ahead.
There may still be disappointments.
There may still be nights when you wonder how you will make it.
But the God who sustained David has not changed.
So when you cannot see the road ahead, trust the One who does.
When your strength is gone, lean upon His.
When you fall, call upon Him.
When you are afraid, run to Him.
When another morning arrives, thank Him and keep walking.
And someday, when you look backward over the road God brought you through, perhaps your testimony will sound very much like David's:
I wasn't strong enough.
I didn't have all the answers.
There were days I thought I wouldn't make it.
But God was faithful.
God was my strength.
God was my power.
And God brought me through.
Reflection Questions
1. What does David mean when he says, “God is my strength and power”?
2. Where in your life are you currently trying to survive primarily through your own strength?
3. Have you ever looked back on a difficult season and realized that God was sustaining you even when you couldn't see it?
4. What battle are you facing right now that you need to surrender to God's strength?
5. How could God use you to strengthen another man where you are presently incarcerated?
6. Are you willing to trust God for today's strength even when He has not shown you what tomorrow holds?
7. If someone asked what has kept you going through everything you've endured, could you sincerely say, “God is my strength and power”?
Closing Prayer
Father,
I confess that I am not strong enough to face life on my own. There are battles I cannot win, burdens I cannot carry, and roads I cannot walk without You.
Thank You that I do not have to depend upon my own strength. You are my strength and my power. When I am tired, sustain me.
When I am afraid, steady me. When I cannot see the road ahead, help me trust You for the next step. Use even this difficult season to shape me into the man You have called me to be.
And when I look back over my life, may I give You all the glory and say with David, “God is my strength and power.” In Jesus' name, Amen.
From: fight the good fight of faith & life journal: by Gregg Harris




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