Last fall, I foolishly took up basketball again. I'm 43 and I should be done with it by now. But I loved to play, and basketball was a regular part of my life from my teen years until a hip problem made me cut it out a few years ago.
The hip started feeling better. I was in Wal-mart with my wife and spotted a basketball. I couldn't resist. I picked it up and began going to the park everyday. The ball was falling through the hoop again, better than I expected. I even played some pick-up games and held my own with folks less than half my age. I had aches and pains, especially in my knees and ankles. But that was to be expected and I figured it would get better.
It didn't. My knee kept swelling and had to be drained. I decided to take some time off to heal up. It didn't help. Every time I sat down for a while, my knees stiffened up terribly. Every time I tried to exercise, every step hurt. I wore braces on both knees all the time. Months passed. No improvement. I began to put on weight. I finally went to the doctor. The doctor sent me to an orthopedic doctor.
The orthopedic doctor told me that I had nothing wrong with me except arthritis. She said that I had inflamed my knees, that I needed to take Aleve, use cushioned inserts in my shoes, and most of all, keep moving. She told me that my knees were getting worse because I responded to the pain by becoming inactive, that the swelling and stiffness would be helped by low impact exercise.
So I started going to the gym every day. Each and every day. Half hour on the stationary bike, weights, half hour on the elliptical machine. Spin class on Wednesdays. It worked! After months of this regimen, my knees feel much better. I can feel the pain and stiffness all the time, especially when I sit for a while. But sometimes it's barely noticeable. Along the way, I've lost a good bit of weight and improved my overall health and well-being.
I've learned something from this experience. I've always tried to stay in shape and remain active. But health and vanity have never been enough for me to keep at it long-term. The only thing that brings me back to the gym every day is pain. Pain is my reminder that I need to obey my doctor and do what it takes to get well.
The Apostle Paul once said that he was given a thorn in the flesh, a messenger from Satan, "to buffet" him. Three times he begged God to remove it from him. Three times God refused. Finally, Paul heard the voice of the Spirit tell him that God's grace would be enough for him, that God's power would be made perfect in him through weakness.
I have no clue what Paul's thorn was, but I know a bit about my thorns. There's the pain in my knees that brings me back to the gym, of course. That pain is something I would love to do without. But I'm also aware that God has used it as a constant reminder of my need to do what it takes to get better. I'm grateful in a way, though I'd sure prefer anything else. It seems that the awful truth about me is that I'm too stubborn or lazy or distracted to learn from any other teacher except pain.
I have other thorns. Paul wouldn't name his, and I don't blame him. I'm claiming the fifth on all my meaningful thorns, too. Some have to do with my emotional health, some relate to my relationships, some relate to my discipleship. I want them fixed. I want them handled. I want them over. I want them removed.
But they probably won't be removed in this life, as far as I can tell. I don't think God put them there. They will not be in the New Jerusalem. But in the meantime, they will nag at me, humble me, and drag my face to the ground to keep me continually at the foot of the cross. I would love to think that God would just remove what I don't like about myself or my life. But I've learned that I would quickly forget him if he did. I would quickly become proud and superior.
That's not to say that I can live with my thorns. If I ignore them or treat them my own way, they will kill me and all that I treasure most. My arthritis was crippling me. My thorns are crippling me. But if I will continually use the pain of my thorns to bring my weakness to Christ, then God will manage the wounds and use my battle against the thorns as a way not only to improve the thorns but also to bring life and healing to the rest of me.
Sometimes, I've known alcoholics and people who love alcoholics who went to treatment and put time into 12 step groups when the pain of alcoholism become to much to bear. All they wanted was to get relief from the alcoholic situation. And the pain usually got better, but it never went away. The alcoholism may or may not have improved. But I've seen over and over again that the application of grace to the pain of the alcoholism did more than treat the alcoholism. Just as my treatment of my knee pain brought strength to my whole body (and mind, too), the grace applied to their alcoholism made them better, stronger, more loving, wiser people and improved everything else in their lives.
This is a mystery. But it's a mystery we must embrace. I've known lots of people, each and every one with, a thorn, a pain, just under the surface. Some of them tried to surgically remove the thorn, or they tried to numb the pain, or they pretended it wasn't there. I've seen thorns badly managed. I've seen them kill.
You have a thorn, too. It may be that if you will allow the pain of your thorn to draw you to Christ that your thorn will be the agent of your healing and the portal through which Christ's strength renews you and makes you whole. It may be that you, like me, can only be shaken from your distraction by the pain of the thorn, that good intentions and accountability and discipline just won't hack it. If so, then may the grace of God be enough for all of us and may his power be made perfect in our weakness.
