Weakness.

If you are anything like me, you probably abhor weakness. And you probably spend an exorbitant amount of time concealing any and all weakness from the watching world. Why? We do this because to be weak in our world is to appear vulnerable. And no one wants that label.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7, Paul tells us he is suffering from a thorn in his flesh. Now we don’t know what Paul suffered from—a physical infirmity or from the constant reminder of a world who persecuted him and misjudged his motivations. Even so, I believe we can all relate especially in the absence of these specifics, can we not?

We all have thorns. They come in all shapes and sizes. Whether they are physical, mental, or emotional, they cause us anxiety, frustration, and shame. Some penetrate just the surface, while others pierce to the deepest places of our soul.

I bet if I asked you right now to name your thorns, you could pinpoint them with such accuracy and speed; it would make my head spin. I am no different. I suffer a physical thorn that limits me in more ways than I care to admit. Then there’s the thorn of being a widow. And another thorn of raising a special needs child. So I get it. Thorns hurt. They hinder. They cause us to retreat or lash out in bitter rebuttal with the all too common, “Why me?”

They bully and bite at our heels. They cause us to walk with a limp albeit our best efforts to pretend not to. Paul’s past was a huge hinderance. One that constantly nipped at his heels although he was a completely changed man and on course to honor God in every way. Isn’t that the way of it? Pasts’ that haunt or an unfair physical hand dealt with a blow to the pride muscle?

Isaiah 54:16; “See, it is I who created the blacksmith who fans the coals into flame and forges a weapon fit for its work. And it is I who have created the destroyer to wreak havoc;

(v. 17) no weapon forged against you will prevail, and you will refute every tongue that accuses you. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and this is their vindication from me,” declares the LORD.

Please note the powerful semicolon between these two verses. As a matter of clarity, the semicolon is used to join large and important independent parts of a sentence because they are related. Not only does the semicolon here depict an adverb such as however; which in and of itself is poignant and powerful. But it is used by the author to connect His purpose to our pain.

Our God authored these scriptures before time. Before you or I ever needed them. Read them again and say out loud the word however in place of the semicolon.

There’s a famous saying thought to be quipped by Abraham Lincoln. You might have heard it, “You can either complain that rose bushes have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.” It is a philosophical charge on perspective.

The rose is a perfect example of this. Rose bushes have thorns; thorns have a purpose—weapons fit for their work. They protect from a world bent on destruction. In fulfilling their purpose of protection, a beauty is unearthed in the delicate petals of a rose. This is our however. This is our divine semicolon. This is our inheritance—our heritage from the LORD.

A few days before my husband died (over twelve years ago now), God took me to Isaiah 54. I know this because I marked it in my Bible with the date. It wasn’t until he was gone that I began seeking divine understanding to this unthinkable thorn.

I prayed fervently and poured through my Bible searching for answers to seemingly unanswerable questions. And what I found was this semicolon. It represents His protection in the midst of my darkest storm. His power to cause an all-surpassing peace to calm the winds and the waves that threatened to engulf me. His provision to make a way where there was none. And His purpose to make sense of an unsensible result.

There are many great and wonderful ways the LORD works, and we can’t possibly comprehend them. This mystery of our suffering is one of them. It is more than we can unpack here, but knowing God is in complete control, even of our thorns, gives me peace. And hope. And the ability to hang on until I can see the beauty He is producing through it.

So hang on dear friend. Allow your thorns to do their work and protect the beauty God wants to unearth in you.

Reflect and Respond:

Take some time this week to identify your thorns. List them in your journal. Pray about them. Or talk them over with your mentor or a trusted friend. Then yield to the work they were meant for—protection and purpose.

Hugs for a great week and remember, you are not alone. Be blessed and allow the mystery of suffering—the divine semicolon—to make sense of your thorns.