INTRO
If we took an inventory of everything that we say in our prayers, we would likely find that the vast majority of our prayers fall into one of two simple prayers. The first category is the “Gimmie” prayer.
You know the “gimmie” prayer well. “Lord, gimme that parking spot right up front. And if it’s not too much to ask, could it be in the shade?” “Lord, gimme the patience to deal with my in-laws this holiday season.” We pray, “Lord, give me a promotion, give me a break, give me a sign that I'm on the right track.” That’s the “gimmie prayer.”
And then there's the second category, and it is, “Lord, take it away.” “Lord, take away this headache before my big meeting.” “Lord, take away this traffic, for I am a righteous person with important places to be.” We pray, “Lord, take away this terrible season my favorite sports team is having.”
Now, I want to focus on the second kind of prayer we often pray.
“Lord, take it away.”
The “it” varies. For some of us, it is a chronic illness. For others, it is a financial struggle. The it might be a difficult marriage. It might be the profound burden of a child who is breaking your heart with their choices. It might be the memory of trauma, the shame and guilt of a past or ongoing sin.
The it is our weakness. Our struggle. Our weakness. It is our thorn. And our most natural and human prayer is, “Please, God. Make it stop. Fix it. Remove it. Take it away.” We believe that our lives would be better, that our faith would be stronger, that our service to God would be more effective, if only God would remove this one, persistent, painful weakness. We see this limitation as a problem to be solved.
But what if we’re wrong? What if our perspective is completely upside down? What if I told you that the very thing you are begging God to take away is the primary tool He is using to shape you and show His power through you? What if the thing you see as your greatest weakness is, in fact, God’s greatest gift to you?
This is the big idea that I want you to take away today: Sometimes the greatest gifts God gives us are the weaknesses we would never choose for ourselves.
This is the path we see in our text this morning in 2 Corinthians 12. Here, in one of the most personal and vulnerable passages in all of Scripture, Paul reveals his highest spiritual experience and his deepest, most agonizing pain. And in the collision between the two, he uncovers a truth that has the power to change not just how we view our suffering, but how we view our God– that sometimes the greatest gifts God gives us are the weaknesses we would never choose for ourselves.
BACKGROUND
Now, before we can understand why Paul had to say what he said, we have to understand the messy and complicated situation that forced Paul to write it. This is the second letter to the Corinthians, which we discovered, so there are several letters written to the Corinthian church. And in all of them, there was some sort of conflict or problem that happened in the church. Paul is writing this letter because his relationship with the church he founded has been poisoned. A group of rival preachers or leaders has infiltrated the church, and they are on a campaign to discredit Paul, his authority, and his message.
Paul sarcastically calls these men the “super-apostles.” I imagine that they would be slick, charismatic, celebrity pastors of their day. These so-called “super-apostles” were polished speakers. They were impressive. They likely traveled with letters of recommendation (wonderful Google reviews), boasting of their spiritual experiences, their visions, and their insights. They operated by the world’s standards of success. To them, power was found in prestige, in charisma, and in financial success. They probably charged the Corinthians for their preaching, implying that their message was a premium product, while Paul, who preached the Gospel at free of charge, was an amateur.
And their primary strategy was to attack Paul at his weakest points. They looked at Paul and they saw a man who was, by their standards, a failure. They mocked his speaking ability, saying in chapter 10, verse 10, “His letters are weighty and strong, but his bodily presence is weak, and his speech of no account.” These super-apostles pointed to his constant suffering—his beatings, shipwrecks, poverty, and imprisonments—as clear evidence that God’s blessing was not on him. After all, if Paul was a true apostle, wouldn’t God protect him from such hardship? Wouldn’t God give him a more powerful, impressive presence?
And the Corinthian church, enamored by the “super-apostle’s” world wisdom and power, was falling for it. They doubted Paul’s authority, and by extension, the truth of the Gospel he preached.
So, Paul is forced to do something he absolutely hates. He is forced to boast. Starting in chapter 11, he enters into what he calls a “fool’s boast.” He says, “I wish you would bear with me in a little foolishness. Do bear with me!” It’s pure sarcasm. He’s essentially saying, “Alright, you want a boasting contest? You want résumés? Fine. Let’s play this foolish game.” He starts by matching their credentials and lists all these incredible things he did to say, none of these matter. If I am going to boast, I am going to boast in my weakness, so that Christ would be magnified. In me.
PAUL’S EXPERIENCE
And that brings us to Chapter 12. This is the final blow in his argument. He’s going to share a spiritual experience so profound, so otherworldly, that it would silence any of the so-called visions of the super-apostles.
He says in verse 1 – “I must go on boasting. Although there is nothing to be gained, I will go on to visions and revelations from the Lord.” These “super-apostles” are forcing his hands, so he shares something that he has kept secret for 14 years. He says in verse 2 – “2 I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows.”
Obviously, Paul is talking about himself. But he uses the third person and says, “I know a man” because he feels uncomfortable and embarrassed about sharing it. He doesn’t want to share this because it has nothing to do with his gospel ministry.
Paul says, “Look, 14 years ago, I’ve gotten a glimpse of heaven. The third heaven.” In Jewish thought, the third heaven was very dwelling place of God. Paul was given a direct, personal encounter with the glory of the living God. He heard heard inexpressible things, things that no one is permitted to tell. This experience was so sacred, so holy; it was literally unspeakable. This was his mountaintop. This was a revelation of surpassing greatness that would make the claims of the “super-apostles” look like childish bragging.
Now, regardless of whatever this experience might have been, most people, had they been granted an experience like Paul, where they experience this glimpse of heaven (and they see Jesus, the souls of the departed, or whatever), they would hardly be able to contain themselves. They would write a book, and it would be titled, My Rapture: A Personal Account of My Trip to Heaven and Back and write seminars on “5 Steps to Your Own Journey to Heaven.” But Paul did none of that. He shares this as a compelling necessity, because the Corinthians and the false apostles were attacking him.
If Paul operated by their rules, this is where Paul would have ended the story. He would mic-drop, rest his case, and the argument would be over. He has proven his spiritual superiority. But Paul is playing a different game. What is the consequence of this incredible blessing? Verse 7 – “Because of these surpassingly great revelations. Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.”
This is one of the most stunning statements in the Bible. BECAUSE of the greatness of the gift of revelation, therefore, God gave him another gift. But this gift did not look like a gift. It looked like a curse. It was a “thorn in the flesh.”
We don’t know what this thorn was, and scholars have debated it for centuries. Some think it was a physical ailment, like malaria, epilepsy, or an eye disease. Others think it was a spiritual torment, some temptation, or the constant opposition he faced from people, like these “super-apostles.” Because if you read the Bible carefully, there were people always out to get Paul wherever he went. They literally stalked Paul wherever he went. There was even a group of more than 40 people who made a vow not to eat anything until they killed the apostle Paul. Frankly, it doesn’t matter what it was. What matters is what it did. It was a source of chronic and humbling pain. It was a permanent weakness. It was a constant limitation.
And what was Paul’s response to this thorn? “Three times, I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me.” Doesn’t that sound familiar? “Lord, take it away.” Paul, the great apostle, the prayed the same prayer we pray. He didn’t see this thorn as a gift. He saw it as a torment. He saw it as a hindrance to his life and ministry. He begged God to remove it. He wanted to be free from this weakness or limitation.
But God did not answer Paul’s prayer in the way he wanted. God did not remove the thorn. Instead, God gave him something far better. God gave Paul a revelation not of heaven, but of grace. Sometimes the greatest gifts God gives us are the weaknesses we would never choose for ourselves.
MY GRACE IS SUFFICIENT
God says to Paul in verse 9 – “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” God’s grace is enough to suffice and to be all that is needed, right now. This is not a future promise that things will eventually get better. It is a present-tense reality. God is saying, “Paul, in this very moment, as the thorn is digging into your flesh, my grace is enough for you. It is a continuous supply for your continuous need.”
Grace is not just the pardon for our sins; it is the power for our lives. It is God’s unmerited favor and divine enablement given to us in our moment of need. God’s answer to Paul’s plea for removal was a promise of provision. He did not remove the circumstance, but He promised to provide all the grace necessary to endure it, to persevere in it, and even to find purpose through it.
Corrie ten Boom, is a Christian writer who endured the horrors of a Nazi concentration camp. She said, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.” God’s sufficient grace is the ticket we hold in the dark tunnel of our suffering. It’s the assurance that the God knows the way, even when we can see nothing but darkness.
God doesn’t stop there. He says, “My power is made perfect in weakness.” The word for “power” is dynamis. It’s where we get our word “dynamite.” It means explosive, miracle-working, divine energy. This is the resurrection power of God, the power that spoke the universe into existence and brought Jesus forth from the grave. The word for “weakness” is a shameful word. It meant helplessness, powerlessness, limitation. It was the state of having no human resources to draw upon.
Put it all together. God is saying that His divine, explosive, resurrection power reaches its intended goal, it is brought to its perfect completion, not in human strength, but in human weakness.
This is so upside down! We think that for God’s power to work, we need to be strong. We need to have it all together. We need to be skilled, capable, and confident. And God says, “No. That’s not how my kingdom works. Your strength, your self-reliance, your pride, the things that these so called ‘super apostles’ want—those things actually get in the way. It is only when you come to the end of your own resources, when you are utterly helpless, that my power is perfected.
In Japan, when a precious piece of pottery breaks, it is not thrown away. They have an art form called Kintsugi, where they meticulously mend the cracks with a golden lacquer. The result is a piece that is more beautiful, more valuable, and more unique than it was before it was broken. The breaks aren’t hidden; they are highlighted in gold. They tell a story of redemption.
This is what God does with our lives. Our weaknesses, our failures, our limitations—these are the cracks. We beg God to hide them. Instead, He fills them with the gold of His grace and power. The cracks are how the light gets in. As the songwriter Leonard Cohen penned, “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
This principle is all over Scripture. God tells Moses, who objects to his call because of his stutter, “I will be with your mouth.” God’s power would flow through the point of his inadequacy. God takes Gideon’s army of 32,000 and whittles it down to a mere 300. God intentionally imposes a weakness so that the victory could only be attributed to His power. Jacob wrestles with God and walks away with a blessing and a permanent disability (a limp), that became a constant reminder of his reliance on God.
As the great preacher Charles Spurgeon (whose sermons influenced my sermons greatly), battled depression his whole life. He said, “The Lord gets his best soldiers out of the highlands of affliction.”
And how does this profound revelation change Paul? Verse 9, he says, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
And that phrase, “rest upon me,” is the climax of the entire passage. The Greek word is episkenoo. It means “to pitch a tent upon,” or “to tabernacle.” It’s the word used to describe the glorious, visible presence of God—the Shekinah glory—coming down to fill the Tabernacle in the wilderness. It’s the same root word John uses in his gospel when he says the Word became flesh and “dwelt,” or “tabernacled,” among us.
So, Paul is saying that his own personal weakness—his limitation, his thorn—has become the very sanctuary, the tabernacle, where the glorious power of Jesus Christ has chosen to pitch its tent. His weakness has become the dwelling place for God’s glory. In his weakness, he experienced the presence of Jesus Christ in a way that his strength never could. That’s why Paul confesses, “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Sometimes the greatest gifts God gives us are the weaknesses we would never choose for ourselves.
PRACTICAL APPLICATION
So, what does that mean for us today? How does that change the way we live our lives? We need to see our weaknesses as “blessed restraints.”
Here is what I mean:
Taking my life as an example, there are moments in my journey as a pastor when I’m asked about the challenges of the role (How is it like being a pastor, so young! Why a pastor?). People often see it from the outside and comment on the sacrifices, the weaknesses, and the burdens. And they’re not entirely wrong. If you asked me, “Why are you in ministry?” I am certainly not going to say, “I am in it for the money, glory, and fame,” because if that were the case, I would have to get a different job. So, while it is true that there are challenges of being a pastor, people often miss the hidden message of grace embedded within the struggle. In various moments, I find myself asking a crucial question: “Where would I be in my spiritual journey if I were not a pastor? Where would my walk with Jesus be if I did not face the joys and challenges of the job?
If I am truly honest with myself, if I weren’t a pastor, I fear I would be God-knows-where, doing God-knows-what, easily distracted and led astray by the cultures of this world. I think I would be the type of person that you tell your grandchildren about (as a bad example). But as a pastor, I feel a constant pull—a blessed restraint—to live a certain way. As a pastor, I am called to deliberately choose certain actions and deliberately refuse others. The very nature of the calling as a pastor always brings me back to the same principles that I teach. I always feel a pull to the very reason why I began this journey: to follow and serve Jesus Christ.
Often, our weakness is the very instrument God uses to keep us close to Him. It is our blessed restraint.
That’s what Paul’s thorn in the flesh was like. Paul never chose it for himself, but God gave it to him, and it turned out to be his greatest gift. The thorn was his blessed restraint; the thorn was what constantly pulled him to where he needed to be. The thorn was a humbling reminder that no matter his spiritual successes, he was utterly dependent on the grace of God.
Now, I ask you to look at your own life. Where has God placed a weakness in your life? Where has God placed a blessed restraint in your life?
Maybe it is a painful or difficult marriage. The daily friction, the loneliness within your own home, the feeling that your prayers for change are hitting the ceiling. You plead with God to fix it or to give you an escape.
Then you realize that this ongoing pain, which you would never choose, becomes a crucible that tests your commitment to your promise to God and your spouse and forces you to depend on a source of love and grace far beyond your own.
Maybe your weakness is a child who is breaking your heart for various reasons. There is a broken relationship in the home, or someone you love is wandering away from the faith. And you feel powerless, knowing that the one you love also needs the love of Jesus Christ in their life, but you cannot do anything about it.
But then you realize that this weakness is restraining you from the illusion of control and drives you to your knees, forcing you to entrust your deepest love into God’s hands.
Maybe it is a disability (something that you are born with, or acquired). If it is something you’ve known your whole life, it may be the constant question of “why me?” and the struggle of navigating a world not built for you. If it is acquired through an accident or old age, there is a sense of grief for the abilities you lost and the person you once were.
But you realize that this weakness forces you to find your worth not in what you can do, but in who you are in Christ, and to rely on a strength that has nothing to do with your muscles, bones, or brain.
Maybe it is a chronic illness. The daily war against your own body, the opportunities stolen by pain, the future you fear is lost. You despise this illness, and like Paul, you have pleaded for deliverance.
However, you realize that this illness is the very thing that restrains your self-reliance and compels you to find hope not in a cure, but in God’s moment-by-moment grace.
Maybe it’s a financial struggle or a particular failure you experienced. You feel trapped, and you fear for your family’s future. You plead with God for a breakthrough.
Then, you realize that this persistent hardship is a thorn that restrains you from finding your worth in worldly success and teaches you trust in Him as your Provider when every other door seems locked.
These are the things we hate. They are the struggles we, like Paul, plead with God “three times,” and more, to take away. We don’t see them as gifts; we see them as weaknesses. But it is in these very struggles–the ones we would never choose for ourselves–that God does His deepest work. They are the thorns that keep us humble, the weights that keep us grounded, and the weaknesses that make room for God’s perfect power to be displayed in our lives.
Of course, this doesn't mean we should celebrate pain or seek suffering–if there is a way of escape that honors God, by all means, take it. But it does mean that when weakness is part of our story, we do not have to despair. We can look at the very thing that feels like it’s holding us back and ask, “God, how are you using this to keep me close to You? How is Your strength being perfected right here, in this weakness?”
The goal is not to love the thorn, but to trust the God who is powerfully present with you in the midst of it. For His promise to Paul is His promise to us today: “My grace is sufficient for you.” God’s grace is enough for your challenging marriage. It is enough for your rebellious child. It is enough for your chronic pain and disability. It is enough for your failures or difficult financial situations. And through it, you experience the wideness of God’s love and provision are new and sufficient enough for each and every single day.
CONCLUSION
As we come to an end, think of Joni Eareckson Tada. At a young age, she had a diving accident and became a quadriplegic. She pleaded with God for healing. The healing didn't come in the way she wanted. In her weakness, she learned to paint with a brush between her teeth. Eventually, she founded a global ministry, Joni and Friends, that works to bring hope to people living with disabilities. The limitation she would never have chosen became the gift that gave her meaning and purpose. Her weakness became the stage for God’s incredible power.
What is your thorn? What is the weakness you have been begging God to take away?
Friends, I can’t promise you that God will always remove the thorn. But I do know that it is a promise that God’s grace will always be sufficient for the thorn. When your weakness is surrendered to God, it can become the very place where His power pitches its tent in your life. Sometimes the greatest gifts God gives us are the limitations we would never choose for ourselves.
