Dependence

It's hard when God doesn't heal our thorn in the flesh. It's hard to reconcile our faith and how earnestly we've prayed with the great, big, resounding "no" from the heavens, from the God that we know is good. As I said yesterday, this persistent thorn in the flesh brings with it the blessing of hope. 

It also brings the blessing of dependence. Or, we might say, continued faith. 

Let's be honest about it - most of us want God to heal the thorn in our flesh so that we can move on. So that it can become one of those good stories we tell from a place far removed from the pain. We promise that we will speak of His goodness, His mercy, His grace. We want the painful seasons of our stories to begin with "once upon a time," with the luxury of looking back and somehow ending up at "happily ever after." 

But we know the world doesn't work that way. We know we don't get all of our stories to work out this way. We know that our stories don't always get to start with "once upon a time," with the luxury of looking back. Too often, they start with "yet again" or "today, too..." One more day. One more struggle. One more chapter that looks the same as the last one. Sometimes, we have to live wondering if we'll ever be happy again, let alone ever after. 

As we say, them's the facts. Or in the language of the church, can I get an "amen?" 

When God doesn't heal our thorn in the flesh, we don't get to tell our stories the way that we want to - from the driver's seat, looking in the rearview mirror. Rather, we have to tell them with every breath. 

We have to tell our stories of depending on God every day. Of believing in Him every day. Of trusting Him every day. To heal us, yes, but more often than not, just to get us through one more day. 

We tell the story of yesterday, and it is a story of God giving us just enough to get through. And when we tell the story of today, it will be the same - God got us through. And maybe that will be the story for the day after that and the one after that and a thousand more. 

Our story, which we wanted to be this really cool story of a really powerful faith that moves mountains and throws them into the sea, becomes...a really cool story of a really powerful faith that is moving mountains by the spoonful. 

One more day. One more breath. One more trust. One more hope. One more prayer. One more thanksgiving. One more rest, and then we'll get up and do it all over again. 

We develop, over time, these narratives of the consistent, steadfast goodness of God. Goodness yesterday, goodness today, goodness for tomorrow and the day after that and maybe a thousand more after that. God may not have been powerfully, miraculously, emphatically good for one dramatic moment of healing like we've wanted, but God is powerfully, miraculously, wonderfully good in every little moment. 

And that, my friends, is a story, too. It's a good one. It's one worth telling. 

And it's that thorn in the flesh that God just doesn't heal that gives us the chance to tell it. 

One more day. One more struggle. One more chapter that looks the same as the last one. One more page of our story in which God is - as He always was and always will be - good. One more sentence in which we declare that He truly does love us.