“Bible prayers: When God says ‘No’”
II Corinthians 12:8
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus.
Back in the late 80s and early 90s, long before there were shows like MTV’s Cribs or How I’m Living, there was another show called Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. And in it, host Robin Leach toured the homes of celebrities, famous athletes, and corporate moguls, to see what they did with all their money.
No matter what the episode, it was always the same--nothing but the best! Gold plated bathroom fixtures, crystal chandeliers, fur coats, and huge, luxurious beds--the rich had the best of everything, larger than life. Whatever you might need, they not only had more of it, they had lots more of it!
Pools that put major resorts to shame. Helicopter pads. Classic cars. Tennis courts in the basement. If it was big, shiny, or incredibly expensive, the rich just had to have it. We watched the show just to see what would happen next! And at the end of each show, he raised his glass and offered a toast to “champagne wishes and caviar dreams.”
If you’re looking for the lifestyles of the rich and famous, you probably won’t find it in the Bible. Abraham was wealthy, but the Lord called him to leave his life of wealth and luxury to find a promised land. Job was wealthy. His house, his flocks, and his herds were second to none. But in a flash, the Lord took it all away.
The Bible is good at that. It’s good at drawing the veil aside so we can see the inward lives of the great men and women of God--not to amuse us or satisfy our curiosity, but to build us up. It’s easy to think God’s people had no problems, that they were spiritual giants, masters of every situation, and had all the answers.
But in reality, the great men and women of God were very much like us--with the same passions, pressures, weaknesses, and temptations. So it was for the apostle Paul.
More than anyone, it seemed, Paul knew how hard life could be. And that’s what he wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians: “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” (II Corinthians 12:7-8).
Let’s step back for a moment to see what’s going on.
For reasons we can’t fully understand, God allowed one of Satan’s demons to torment him. And not just torment him, when Paul talked about it, he used a word that means “to strike, to trouble, and to beat with your fists.”
Even more, Paul was no hypochondriac or complainer. Any man who could single-handedly take command of a ship and save its 278 passengers, any man who could remain unshaken through an earthquake and keep the jailer and prisoners calm, and any man who could stand in chains before governors and kings and still preach the gospel, wouldn’t flinch at the prick of a thorn. Paul was a strong man. He was an unconquerable man. Yet in his pain and torment, he cried out to God for help.
And think of what else he said. He said, “I have worked much harder. I have been in prison more frequently. I have been flogged more severely. I have been exposed to death again and again…five times I received from the Jews forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked. I spent a night and a day on the open sea. I’ve been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from Jews and Gentiles, and have often gone without sleep. I’ve been hungry and thirsty, cold and naked” (II Corinthians 11:23-27).
And what did he get for all of his prayers and tears and groanings? He got a “no.” God said “no.” But along with that “no,” came a promise: “My grace is all you need” (II Corinthians 12:9).
In other words, the Lord said to Paul, “Paul, I hear you. I know what you’re asking for and I know what you’re going through. And though I choose not to remove your pain, I will pour out My grace. And in the midst of My grace, others will see the strength of your faith and the greatness of your God.”
Or as one author wrote, “When our strength and endurance fail, and we’ve reached the end of what we are able to do, then the Father’s full giving has just begun.”
And Paul wasn’t the only one to whom God said “No.” On the slopes of Mount Nebo, Moses looked out on all that he had hoped for and dreamed about, what he had, for forty years, worked for and struggled for--the Promised Land. But as he looked out as far as his eyes could see, God said “No, you can’t go there.”
Joseph was sold into slavery and thrown into jail for a crime he did not commit. And as he prayed for some sense of justice and mercy, God said “No.”
Even Jesus, in His humanity, prayed to escape the dreadful curse of crucifixion. And even then, though He deeply loved His Son, the Father said “No.”
As one author put it, “It’s one thing to endure in prayer when God makes you wait, but it’s another thing altogether when God tells you no. And when He says no, it’s easy to be angry with Him, or to become discouraged, disillusioned, or disbelieving. It’s easy to buy into the lie that God doesn’t love you as much as He loves other people. Or maybe you even start to wonder if God exists at all.”
Two professors from the University of Washington once devised a scale of common life experiences. They ranked life events on a scale of 0 to 100 to determine the amount of grief or stress we might face in life.
Traffic tickets ranked at 11, major changes in living conditions ranked 25, and a major personal injury or illness ranked 53. The death of a spouse ranked the highest at 100.
And as the professors studied case after case, they discovered that those whose cumulative stress score reached higher than 150 became physically sick. And for those whose stress level reached over 300, most everyone suffered from anxiety or depression.
Moses was depressed. Who wouldn’t be? The people that he cared for, the people of Israel, constantly complained. They said, “We need water. We need meat. And we detest this miserable manna.”
Job was depressed. He lost his home. He lost his family. And with nothing left, he said, “Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb? I have no peace nor quietness; I have no rest, but only turmoil” (Job 3:11, 26).
David was depressed. He wrote in the words of Psalm 6: “My bones are in agony. My soul is in anguish. How long, O Lord, how long? I am worn out from groaning; all night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears” (Psalm 6:2-3, 6).
So why the thorns? Why does God sometimes say “No”? Maybe it’s because He wants to reveal our spiritual condition. Or maybe He wants to keep us humble. Or maybe He says no so we can better experience His power and His grace. As Paul wrote: “Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from. But He said to me, ‘My power is made perfect in weakness’” (II Corinthians 12:8-9). “My grace is all you need.”
One day, nineteenth century preacher Charles Spurgeon was returning home after a day full of work and hardship and disappointment. And he was depressed. And he got to thinking about that verse, “My grace is sufficient for you. My grace is all you need.”
And he thought of himself as a little fish swimming in the Thames River drinking ever so small slurps of water, afraid that he might drink the river dry. Then he heard the river call to him and say, “Drink away little fish! My stream is sufficient for you.”
Then he thought of himself as a little mouse in the granaries of Joseph in Egypt, afraid that by daily eating a small handful of corn, he might exhaust the incredible supply. Then he heard Joseph call to him and say, “Cheer up, little mouse! All the granaries of Egypt are sufficient for you.”
Then he thought of himself as a man climbing to the top of the Alps. And reaching that lofty summit, he dreaded to take a breath lest he might exhaust all the oxygen in the atmosphere. Then he heard the Creator call out to him and say, “Breathe away, old man! My air is sufficient for you.”
God’s grace is sufficient for you. His grace is all you need.
That is, after all, what Isaiah once wrote in his 43rd chapter: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…when you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched…for I am the Lord your God, the holy One of Israel” (Isaiah 43:2-3).
In the spring of 1864, battle exploded once again on the outskirts of Richmond, Virginia. Finally, after the skirmish ended and the armies marched off to fight elsewhere, small details of soldiers moved onto the battlefield to bury their dead. And one party came upon a Confederate soldier who laid amongst the dead in the front of the battle line.
But just before burying him on the field, the grave-diggers made a search of his body. And inside his shirt pocket, they found a small sheet of paper on which he had scrawled some thoughts, a statement of what life meant to him.
This is what he said: “I asked God for strength, that I might achieve. I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey. I asked for health, that I might do greater things. I was given infirmity, that I might do better things. I asked for riches, that I might be happy. I was given poverty, that I might be wise. I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men. I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life. I was given life, that I might enjoy all things. I got nothing that I asked for--but everything I had hoped for. Almost in spite of myself, my unspoken prayers were answered. I am, among all men, most richly blessed.”
And how is all this possible? Always and only because of the unending, unrelenting, all-forgiving, all-sufficient grace of God.
We thank You, Father, for the great grace You show in our every time of need. Make us strong and patient as we wait on You and You alone, for Jesus’ sake. Amen