Is God Still Good When He Says "No"?

 

Is God Still Good When He Says “No”?

Is God Still Good When He Says "No"? - Audio/Visual 

To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:7-9)

Picture you and me and a few others flying across the country in a chartered airplane not named Boeing. All of a sudden, the engine bursts into flames and the pilot rushes out of the cockpit. "We're going to crash!" "We've got to bail out!" Good thing he knows where the parachutes are because we don't. He passes them out, gives us a few pointers and we stand in line as he throws the door open.

The first passenger steps up to the door and shouts over the wind, "Could I make a request?" "Sure, what is it?" "Any way I could get a pink parachute?" The pilot shakes his head in disbelief. "Isn't it enough that I gave you a parachute at all?" And so, the first passenger jumps. The second steps to the door. "I'm wondering if there’s any way you could ensure that I won't get nauseated during the fall?" "No, but I can ensure that you will have a parachute for the fall." And out goes the next. "Please, Captain," says another, "I’m afraid of heights. Would you remove my fear?" "No," he replies, "but I'll give you a parachute." Yet another pleads for a different strategy, "Couldn't you change your plans? Let's crash with the plane. We might survive." The pilot smiles and says, "You don't know what you’re asking," and gently shoves the guy out the door with his parachute securely strapped to his back.

One passenger wants Rodeo Drive, another wants Xanax, and another wants to wait until the plane is closer to the ground. "You people don't understand," the pilot shouts as he saves us, one by one. "I've given you a parachute; that’s enough." Only one item is necessary for the jump, and he provides it. He gives us the strategic tool that we need. The gift is adequate. But are we content? No. We’re restless, anxious, even demanding. Too crazy to be possible? Maybe in a plane with a pilot and parachutes, but on earth with people and grace? God hears thousands of appeals per millisecond.

Some are legitimate. We, too, ask God to remove the fear, or change the plans. He usually answers with a gentle shove that leaves us airborne and suspended by his grace. There are times, however, when the one thing you want is the one thing you never get. You're not being picky or demanding; you're only obeying his command to "ask God for everything you need." (Phil. 4:6) All you want is an open door, or an extra day, or an answered prayer. And so, you pray and wait. No answer. You pray and wait some more. No answer. You pray and wait again. But what if God says no? What if the request is delayed, or even denied? When God says no to you, how will you respond? If God says, "I've given you my grace, and that’s enough," will you be content?

Content. A state of heart in which you would be at peace if God gave you nothing more than he has already. What if God's only gift to us was his grace to save us? Would we be content? But she begs him to save the life of her child. He pleads with him to keep his business afloat. You implore him to remove the cancer from your body. What if his answer is, "My grace is enough?" Would you be content?

From heaven's perspective, grace is enough. If God did nothing more than save us from hell, could anyone complain? Given eternal life, can we really grumble at an aching body? Having been given heavenly riches, can we complain about earthly poverty? But God hasn’t left us with "just salvation." If you have eyes to read the paper, or hands to hold a Starbucks, he’s already given you grace upon grace.

The vast majority of us have been saved, and then blessed even more. But there are times when God, having given us his grace, hears our appeals anyway and says, "My grace is sufficient for you." Is he being unfair? Is God still a good God when he says no? Is God good all the time, and all the time God good? Paul wrestled with that question. He knew the angst of unanswered prayer. At the top of his prayer list was an unidentified request that dominated his thoughts. He even gave the appeal a code name: "a thorn in my flesh." (2 Cor. 12:7) Perhaps the pain was too intimate to put on paper. Maybe the request was made so often he reverted to shorthand. "I'm here to talk about that thorn-thing again, God." Or could it be that by leaving the appeal generic, Paul's prayer could be our own? Don't we all have a thorn in the flesh?

Somewhere on life's path our flesh is pierced by a person or a problem. Our stride becomes a limp, our pace is slowed to a halt, and we try to walk again only to wince at each effort. Finally, we plead with God for help. And such was the case with Paul. His was a “thorn.” You don't get thorns unless you're on the move, and Paul never stopped. Thessalonica, Jerusalem, Athens and Corinth – if he wasn't preaching, he was in prison because of his preaching. But his walk was hampered by this “thorn.” The barb pierced through the sole of his sandal and into the soul of his heart and soon became a matter of intense prayer. "I begged the Lord three times to take this problem away from me." (2 Cor. 12:8)

This was no casual request, either; no P.S. at the end of a letter. It was the first plea of the first sentence. "Dear God, I need some help!" Nor was this some superficial prickle. It was a "stabbing pain," at least as rendered in the Phillips translation of this same verse. Every step he took sent a shudder up his leg. Three different times he limped over to the side of the road and prayed. His request was clear, and so was God's response. "My grace is sufficient." (2 Cor. 12:9) So what “thorn” is he talking about? No one knows for sure, but here’s some possibilities. The first could have been sexual temptation.

Paul battling the flesh? Maybe. After all, Paul was a single man, probably the result of a divorce after he met Jesus on the road to Damascus. As a former member of the Sanhedrin, he was likely married before, and probably to one of the pretty people. He describes the temptress like a guy who knew her firsthand. "I want to do the things that are good, but I do not do them. I do not do the good things I want to do, but I do the bad things I do not want to do." (Rom. 7:18-19) Is Paul asking God to finally deliver him from the hunger of an appetite he’d sated before he came to Christ? Perhaps.

But maybe the problem was not his flesh but foes, not temptation but opposition. The passage hints at it. "This problem was a messenger from Satan." (2 Cor. 12:7) Paul had his share of opponents. There were those who questioned his apostleship (2 Cor. 12:12), and there were some who undermined his message of grace. (Gal. 1:7) By the way, when Paul wrote that this "messenger of Satan" was sent "to beat me," he wasn't exaggerating. Look at Paul’s scars. He received 39 lashes five times; was beaten with rods on three others; nearly stoned to death; and shipwrecked more than once. (2 Cor. 11:21-28)

Some, on the other hand, think the thorn was his abrasive nature. Whatever he learned at the feet of Gamaliel, he must have been dozing off the day they discussed the topic of tact. Because before he knew grace, Saul killed Christians. And after he knew grace, he grilled Christians. Example? "When Peter came to Antioch, I challenged him to his face, because he was wrong." (Gal. 2:11) Written like a true diplomat. In Paul's view, you were either on God's side or Satan's side, and should you slide from the first to the second, he didn't keep it a secret. "Hymenaeus and Alexander have done that, and I have given them to Satan so they will learn not to speak against God." (1 Tim. 1:20) Everyone within range of his tongue and pen knew how he felt, and maybe knew when to duck.

However, a case can be made that the thorn was not temptation, opposition or public relation skills. It could have been related to his body, instead. Remember his words at the end of one of his letters? "See what large letters I use to write this myself." (Gal. 6:11) Maybe his eyes were bad. Could be he never got over that trip to Damascus. God got his attention with a light so bright that Paul was left blind for three days. Maybe he never fully recovered. His clear vision of the cross may have come at the cost of a clear vision of anything else. He wrote of the Galatians that "you would have taken out your eyes and given them to me if that were possible." (Gal. 4:15) In Paul's profession, poor eyesight could be an occupational hazard. It's hard to travel if you can't see the trail, and it’s hard to stitch a tent if you can’t see the needle. It’s not any easier to write epistles if you can't see the page. Poor vision leads to strained eyes, which leads to headaches, which leads to late nights and long prayers for relief. It's hard to impress the crowd if you're making eye contact with a tree, instead. Which leads to a final possibility.

We assume that Paul was a dynamic speaker, but those who heard him apparently disagreed. "His speaking is nothing," he overheard them say in Corinth (2 Cor. 10:10), and Paul didn't seem to argue with them. In fact, earlier he’d said, "When I came to you, I was weak and fearful and trembling. My teaching and preaching were not with words of human wisdom that persuade people but with proof of the power that the Spirit gives." (1 Cor. 2:3-4) Translation? I was so scared that I stuttered, so nervous that I forgot my point, and the fact that you heard anything at all is testimony to God. So, let's tally this up. Tempted often. Beaten regularly. Opinionated. Dim-sighted. Thick-tongued. Is this really the apostle Paul? No wonder some questioned if he were actually an apostle. And it’s no wonder why he prayed.

Are any of these requests inappropriate? Would he have been a better apostle with no temptation, no enemies, a calm demeanor, good eyes and a glib tongue? Maybe. But then again, maybe not. Had God removed temptation, Paul may have never embraced God's grace. Only the hungry value a meal, and Paul was starving. The self-given title on his door read, "Paul, Chief of Sinners." No pen ever articulated grace like Paul's. That may be because no person ever appreciated grace like Paul. And had God stilled the whips, Paul may have never known love. "If I were burned alive for preaching the Gospel but didn't love others, it would be of no value whatsoever." (1 Cor. 13:3) Persecution distills motives. In the end, Paul's motives were distilled into one force, "the love of Christ controls us." (2 Cor. 5:14)

Had God made him meek and mild, who would have faced the legalists, confronted the hedonists and challenged the judgmentalists? Maybe the reason the letter of Galatians is in your Bible is because Paul couldn't stomach a diluted grace. Attribute the letters to Corinth to Paul's intolerance of a sloppy faith. Paul's honesty may not have made him friends, but it made a lot of disciples.

And Paul's eyes. If God had healed his eyesight, would Paul have had such insights? While everyone else was watching the world, Paul was seeing visions too great for words. (2 Cor. 12:3-4) And public speaking? Nothing intoxicates like the approval of the crowd. God may have just been keeping his apostle sober and humble. Whatever the affliction, it was there for a purpose. And Paul knew it. It was “to keep me from becoming conceited.” The God who despises pride did whatever was necessary to keep Paul from becoming proud. In this case, he simply told him, "My grace is sufficient." (See, 2 Cor. 12)

Maybe he’s saying the same thing to you. Have you ever wondered why God doesn't remove temptation from your life? If he did, you might lean on your own strength instead of his grace. A few stumbles might be what you need to convince you that his grace is sufficient for your sin. Ever wonder why God doesn't remove the enemies in your life? Perhaps it’s because he wants you to love like he loves. Anyone can love a friend, but only a few can love an enemy. So what if you aren't everyone's hero? His grace is sufficient for your self-image. Wonder why God doesn't alter your personality? Maybe you, like Paul, are a little rough around the edges and say things you later regret or do things you later question. Why doesn't God make you more like him? He is. He's just not finished with you yet. And until he is, his grace is sufficient to overcome your flaws.

Wonder why God doesn't heal you? He has. If you’re in Christ, you have a perfected soul and a perfected body. His plan is to give you the soul now and the body when you get home. He may choose to heal parts of your body before heaven. But if he doesn't, don't you still have reason to be grateful? If he never gave you more than eternal life, could you ask for anything more than that? His grace is sufficient for gratitude. Ever wonder why God won't give you a skill? If only God had made you a singer, or a runner, or a missionary. But there you are, tone-deaf and slow of foot and mind. Don't despair. God's grace is still sufficient to finish what he began.

And until he's finished, let Paul remind you that the power is in the message, not the messenger. His grace is sufficient to speak clearly, even when you don't. For all we don't know about thorns, we can be sure of this: God would prefer we have an occasional limp than a perpetual strut. And if it takes a thorn for him to make his point, he loves us enough to refrain from grabbing the tweezers and plucking it out. God has every right to say “No” to us. And we have every reason to say “Thank you” to him.

Grace,

Randy