By Lindsey Williams
My Lord, I walked with You, loved life with You, but oh a thorn has pricked my skin. Buried deep within my bone, I lie awake at night with aches and tears. The whole world hides behind doors; I cannot take another day alone. I do not understand why this has happened. Now I walk with You as if in sleep, fearing life in spite of You, and oh how the thorn stings my eyes. Overflowing faith within my heart, I once stayed up late just to laugh with You. The whole world was full of hope; I never spent a day alone.
Please, my Lord, be the Physician and remove the thorn.
“You have My grace.”
My Lord, I had so much joy; I sang songs and praises to You every day. I was commended for a wisdom beyond my years. I forgave and forgot, and when the hedge of protection withered, I searched for beauty, yet received a thorn in my flesh, a blight in my mind. Infectious it grows, festering from the first thought to the second I sleep. Now I go about my days in sorrow; now I weigh cares and burdens through the nights. I am ensnared in irrational panic beyond my fears. I reminisce and I remember the days when Your presence was clear, when I was small but great in Your Kingdom, and received Your Word in my heart, right in Your sight.
Please, my Lord, be my Physician and remove the thorn.
“You have My grace.”
My Lord, I trusted You when I was afraid, prayed over rooms where Your Enemy lurked. Faith and assurance were my confidants; goodness and mercy were my friends. The whole world teemed with possibilities and pathways; I wrote stories of Your faithfulness in my fantasies. I understood right from wrong and never questioned Your answers. I went about my days in perfect peace; I spoke to You before I slept as I knew Your arms surrounded me. I walked freely, talked at liberty, unafraid of the opinions of man but in love with the reflections of my God. I hoped and I dreamed of the future ahead of me, where Your direction was clear, where I journeyed with You in great adventures, and my life found meaning and purpose.
But I am afraid in my bed; the Enemy mocks outside my door. Fear and anxiety are my counselors; shame and disgrace are my teachers. The whole world swarms with evil and envy; I read news of unending doom in my reality. I confuse truth from lies and often ask You why. I go about my days in piercing pieces; I stay silent in Your presence because I know You will be disappointed in me. I walk in chains, I talk restrained, afraid of the opinions of man and blind to the reflection of my God. I despair and I assume the worst ahead of me, where Your direction is gone, where I wander without You into valleys, and my life loses meaning and purpose.
Please, my Lord.
“My child… My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
My Lord, for the sake of Christ, then…
I boast in my thorn. See how the thorn stings my eyes and embitters my soul and yet see how He lifts my spirit. I am content with a daily fight with the devil, because I know Who holds up my hands. I am content with a broken heart, because I know Who is close to me. I am content with nervous speech, because I know Who speaks through me. I am content with aching bones, because I know Who suffered for me. I am content with praising out of my pain, because I know Who called me to His choir.
I am content with nothing new under the sun, because I know Who loves the world and I know Who gave His Son. I am content with sick nostalgia, because I know Who makes all things new. I am content with scars and stitches, because I know Who made me whole. I am content with haunting pasts, because I know Who made me holy. I am content with the condemnation of the Accuser, because I know the Redeemer Who saved me by His eternal grace, and I know the Christ Who defeated the desperate Enemy that dug this passing thorn into my dying flesh.
For the sake of Christ, I am content with my thorn.
For when I am weak, then I am strong.
(Inspired by 2 Corinthians 12:1-10, and a thorn in my side since 2020)
Williams is a member of First Church, Jackson.
