The Thorn in My Flesh

I’ve wrestled with the Almighty over a certain thorn in my flesh for some time now. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed harder for anything in my life. I begged Him to take it away because this thorn was breaking me emotionally, physically, and mentally. And I wish that were an exaggeration. If I weren’t a Christian, I might have ended my life a long time ago.

This past summer, on a random Tuesday, my thorn disappeared.

At first, I was overjoyed. Something that had tormented me for 1 year, 8 months, and 19 days was finally gone. I felt free. Like a prisoner stepping out of a cage, the “demons,” as I had called them, were gone.

Thank You, Jesus.

But that freedom came at a cost. No sooner had my thorn vanished than I realized I had also let go of the cross I was carrying.

These days, I secretly wish I could go back to those dark, lonely times. I know it sounds ridiculous, but sometimes I wish my demons were back. It’s a strange prayer, but it was during those days that I heard God’s voice the loudest. My breaking point had brought me closer to Him than I had ever been.

Life was strangely beautiful when I was broken. I sat at the Shepherd’s feet, and His attention seemed to be fixed on me. I could hear the wolves howling outside the sheep pen, but the Shepherd was always there too. And as long as I stayed close, I would never be harmed.

Now, like a sheep that has wandered away, I struggle to hear His voice. And I miss the warmth of His touch.

“For He wounds, but He also bandages; He strikes, but His hands also heal.”
— Job 5:18

This is one of my favorite verses. It reminds me of a story. Most likely a myth, but still a powerful metaphor. Apparently, shepherds sometimes break the legs of a wandering, rogue sheep. They do it not out of cruelty, but to save the sheep’s life. The injury forces the sheep to stay close, and during its healing period, the shepherd carries it on his shoulders all the time. Over time, the sheep learns to remain near the one who protects it, and it never runs away again.

“Even though I have received such wonderful revelations from God, to keep me from becoming proud, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger from Satan to torment me and keep me from becoming proud. Three times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time He said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’”
— 2 Corinthians 12:7–9 (NLT)

Paul’s thorn was much like that. Looking back, I realize mine was too. My brokenness kept me safe on the Shepherd’s shoulders. Sometimes I wish He had never healed me.

Now, as I wander in my faith, I “baa” loudly, hoping my Shepherd will hear and find me. Will He break my legs when He finds me? Or will He joyfully carry me home, like in Jesus’ parable? [Luke 15:5] I don’t know.

Part of me hopes He will break my legs. Because what are a few broken bones compared to an eternity without Him? I’d rather break every bone in my body than spend one day outside of His loving presence.

The real thorn in my flesh is a day apart from God. A spiritual pain far deeper than anything physical. Broken bones pale in comparison to the agony of being far away from the Shepherd.

To you, dear reader: thank God for the thorns in your life. Paul said it best—His power is made perfect in our weakness. If you are weak, rejoice. If you are broken, glorify Him. The Shepherd is closest to His sheep when it cries out.

Paul understood his thorn’s purpose. I, on the other hand, became proud of my own freedom. And now, I am brokenhearted. But as I wait for the Shepherd to come and rescue me, Scripture after Scripture reminds me of the truth:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted.” — Psalm 34:18

The shoulders of Jesus are where a Christian finds true peace. Whether we arrive there through joy or through brokenness, that is where we belong. That is the lot we must choose.