While Jesus walked the earth, there was a common proverb: “physician, heal thyself.” It expresses a genuine human prejudice that the best judge of someone’s abilities or advice is how it helps themselves. It has never been more blasphemously used when the religious leaders dismissed the crucified Christ by saying “he saved others, himself he cannot save.” We have this same philosophy today, particularly in spiritual matters. “Spiritual maturity” means graduating from the struggles and conflicts of soul the common man faces; and until one achieves this, the power of God is not upon him. A poor man will have his financial convictions dismissed, even if they are soundly biblical. A preacher’s exposition of scripture will be suspect if that preacher is ever known to be battling sin. So, we hide our weaknesses, lest we be discredited by them. “Physician, heal thyself” creates a set of expectations that forces us to become hypocrites or risk being sidelined.
But this is not scriptural. All throughout scriptures, we see deeply flawed, struggling people being used of God in fantastic ways. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob possessed radical, monumental flaws, yet God was not ashamed to be called their God. Keep reading the scriptural narrative, and you will see it filled with surprisingly fragile people. Nowhere is this more apparent than in Paul, the apostle. Paul was used by God in fantastic, world-shaking ways; and Paul was deeply flawed. This paradox is clearly seen in Romans 7 and 8. We struggle with interpretive systems to explain the dichotomy between those two passages because we can’t accept the plain truth: this great man of God also struggled.
But Paul himself did something we fear to do: he embraced the paradox. Consider how he dealt with his “thorn in the flesh” in 2 Corinthians 7-10. Whatever the thorn in the flesh was, it was a bad thing: bad enough for Paul to describe it as a “messengers of Satan.” It constantly attacked him, making it harder to do what God would have him do. So, Paul did the correct thing, he asked God for relief. But God refused. He didn’t say “keep working at it Paul, and when you’re spiritually mature, I will take care of it;” he just refused. In doing so, Christ stated a principle that is against every human instinct, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Jesus didn’t need Paul to be better so that Paul could be used, he needed Paul to be weaker: even if the means of that weakness was a messenger of Satan. Whatever the thorn, and whatever forces of evil that were involved, Paul’s weakness was a divinely ordained means to magnify the power of Christ in Paul’s life. Ok, God said no, so Paul grudgingly accepted the inevitability of his “thorn” and tried to cope with it. No! When Christ spoke, Paul embraced this principle in all its implications! He says “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 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.” This paradox was not a circumstance to be endured, it was central to Paul’s life and ministry. Paul would embrace his weakness and all the horrors it brings so that he might also be filled with the power of Christ.
My “thorn” is mental illness. I battle chronic depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, and a whole host of other challenges. It effects every aspect of my life. And it is something I have always had to hide or minimize when I was around Christians. I would hear sermons about whether or not Christians can be depressed, and I would put the blissful look on my face that everyone expects. I would lie whenever people would ask me what was wrong, seeking to find a socially acceptable weakness that could explain my condition. No one would fault me for having a cold, but struggling with anxiety was a sign of spiritual immaturity! I could ask no one for help for a long time. I was isolated and unworthy.
Like Paul, I prayed that this thorn would be taken away from me, so that I could finally be used of God. I searched the scriptures for something that would cure me. I read every book I could find, but no Christian method brought me the “maturity” I needed to banish this messenger of Satan. I would repent and trust God, and I would find that, while it strengthened my spirit, I still was not free of the buffeting of the flesh. I looked for an epiphany that would end my struggle, and did not find it. God was exercising his sovereign right to tell me no; for he had something much better in mind for me: empowering grace. It was not wrong for me to seek freedom from this thorn, nor is it beyond God to grant it Now let me be clear: God is not the author of sin, nor is he morally culpable for the sinful choices of others or myself. Mental illness is not a spiteful curse from a malevolent deity; it is a consequence of the curse of sin, as with all other human maladies. But God in his wisdom and sovereignty designed to use this evil for his universal plan of greatest good. He allows me to bare this thorn, but in doing so, provides an opportunity for his power to shine in me and through me.
Mental illness is not fun, nor was Paul’s thorn in the flesh. But in seeing the power of God at work in my life, I have learned, like Paul, to love my weakness: for it has been the vehicle of Christ’s power in my life. I have learned to glory in it, for I have found my true strength in embracing my weakness. I am broken, and God delights to use broken men. His grace is sufficient for me, and it has filled me with his unrivaled omnipotence which outmatches my crippling weaknesses. People seek after signs and wonders. They wish to see God show his power by doing miraculous things. A God who can cure mental illness in a moment is surely the God of might and power! But God’s ways are above human imagination, for he displays even greater power by perpetually empowering those who are perpetually beset by thorns in the flesh. This is no mere instant of omnipotence, but a continual supply to counteract the worst of human weakness. This is power indeed! And this is the power he displays in me. This is not the exception, but the rule. Yet Christ himself acknowledges that this mighty paradox must be sustained by all sufficient Grace. And the primary means of grace we have in his Word, empowered by his Spirit, and bathed in prayer. It is by this means that his power has filled by life when I was bereft of strength. And again, in this, I am no exception; this is God’s ordained plan of operation within his people. God displays his omnipotence by working effectively through the weaknesses of broken mortals and soothing their troubled spirits with the balm of his Spirit-empowered Word.
In God’s word, I did not find the cure to mental illness, nor did I find merely a means to cope; I found the grace to shine with his power even within the context of crippling weakness. In this book, I will discuss ten specific texts which God has used powerfully in my life to display his strength in my weakness. Why? Because I am not alone. Many Christians battle mental illness, and all Christians will have opportunity to support those that do. Perhaps these very texts that have ministered grace to my soul might do the same for others. Perhaps this is how the power of God can shine through my weakness even more. I pray that this might be so.
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.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 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. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10)
