So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” [2 Corinthians 12:7-9 (ESV)]
But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world… [C.S. Lewis]
During that dark time about which I recently wrote, I was in intense pain and it seemed like God had turned His back on me. When I confided to a friend that God seemed deaf to my pleas, she asked the simple question, “Have you turned it over to the Lord?” I assured her I had but, as the day wore on, I wondered if that were true.
In my prayers for relief, I was telling God the outcome I desired, but that really isn’t “turning it over” to Him. If any human had a direct line to God’s heavenly office, it would have been the Apostle Paul and yet God didn’t relieve him of whatever his thorn was! Instead of demanding the result I wanted, I had to place myself in God’s loving hands as did Paul and pray for God’s grace and the power to accept what He’d placed in my lap.
Each morning, I prayed for grace enough for the day—for the strength, endurance, peace, patience, courage, and joy needed to get through the next twenty-four hours. I asked God to reassure me of His lovingkindness and to protect me from the doubt, fear, and negativity Satan was whispering in my ears. The hardest thing, however, was to hand the outcome of my upcoming surgery into His loving hands. I had to trust in His plan and presence regardless of its outcome. The physical pain remained but, with the power of the Spirit, I dealt with it.
I don’t think God decides our fate with a toss of the dice and, while a quick view of my MRI told me the why of my present physical pain, I asked God to help me understand its purpose. Paul knew his thorn was to keep him from being conceited; what was my pain telling me? In The Problem of Pain, C.S. Lewis points out how easy it is to ignore God when all is well. “We will not seek it [our happiness] in Him as long as He leaves us any other resort where it can even plausibly be looked for. While what we call ‘our own life’ remains agreeable we will not surrender it to Him.” Admittedly, I’d been in a state of “meh” and become self-sufficient rather than God-dependent and lax in my spiritual disciplines. Like the Apostle Paul, perhaps I’d become too sure of myself; the intense pain reminded me of my need for God!
As C.S. Lewis wisely pointed out, an intellectual understanding of pain is far easier than the fortitude, courage, and patience needed to endure it. It’s far easier to talk the talk than walk the walk! Nevertheless, endure it we must and through the power of the Holy Spirit, we can!
By the time this devotion is published, I will have had the surgery that, God willing, will relieve my pain. While I don’t know what my future holds, I do know who holds it in His loving hands and I trust that He will supply me with all I need to face whatever it may be.
When I first started reading the psalms, I suspected David might have been bi-polar—his highs seemed so high and his lows so very low; now I understand that he was just being truthful. In his psalms, David unabashedly expressed his deepest feelings to God. Pouring out his soul, he openly shared his emotions—whether anger, disappointment, sorrow, regret, shame, joy, love, fear, doubt, or even his desire for vengeance upon his enemies. No matter how troubled he was, David never was afraid to speak from his heart. I’m not sure we are willing to be as vulnerable and straightforward in our prayers as was David.
The next morning, while Jesus and the disciples walked from Bethany to Jerusalem for yet another confrontation with Judea’s religious leaders, the disciples saw the tree Jesus cursed the previous day. The disciples had witnessed Jesus cast out demons and still a storm with a just a word but, when they saw the withered and dead fig tree, they were amazed. Normally, trees die slowly from the top down but this tree instantly withered from the roots up. With dead roots, no amount of water or fertilizer would revive it. Having witnessed the tree go from abundance to ruin with just a word from the Lord, rather than asking Jesus to explain cursing the tree, the disciples focused on the speed with which the fig died.
Sometime near the end of the 3rd century, the Bishop of Myra died and a conclave was held to elect his replacement. Legend has it that the bishops kept praying and voting but could not come to an agreement. In a stalemate, they prayed all night for God’s guidance. That night, one bishop heard a voice telling him that, at the hour of matins, the man who walked into the church was the one God wanted to shepherd His flock.
According to the Greek myth, when Zeus presented a beautiful jar to Pandora as part of her dowry, he forbade her to open it. Curiosity, however, got the best of her. When she lifted its lid to peek into the jar, all the malevolence and afflictions Zeus hid inside were released. As evils like sickness, chaos, death, conflict, hatred, jealousy, sorrow, envy, lust, famine, and violence came rushing out , the terrified woman quickly replaced its lid. All that remained in the jar was hope—the only consolation humans have for the trouble and suffering Pandora let loose upon the world.
In Psalm 23, the King James version translates the original Hebrew “gay tsalmaveth” as “valley of the shadow of death.” A more accurate translation, however, would be a dark valley or a valley of death-like darkness. While people often associate this psalm with death, it uses the metaphor of sheep and their shepherd and sheep have no concept of death. But, because of their near-sightedness and poor depth perception, they are reluctant to move into dark places. Nevertheless, whether referring to the unknown, danger, or even death, David’s words are ones of comfort and hope to all who read them—we are not alone as we travel through the dark valleys of life.
Devotions of the Heart 