By Jared W
Could it be that the struggle with lust can truly be an act of grace? That may seem like an oxymoron, but the question formed in my mind after hearing men discuss their struggles and confess that their pride had gotten the best of them, prompting them to believe they could handle the battle of lust on their own. Yet, the moment of truth came when they fell on their faces and realized they required God’s assistance in fighting this battle. They could not be victorious over their problem by trying to fight alone. Their struggle to overcome became their alarm clock, awakening them from their self-reliance.
But isn’t that the exact place where EVERY Christian needs to arrive? After all, is Christianity not about putting our trust in God? Not my skills, not my brilliance, not my experience, not my mental preparedness, not my social status, not who my family members are, and not how much money is in my bank account. My faith should be in a God who is bigger and smarter than I am.
In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul described a negative event in his life as a “thorn in the flesh.” Thorns are uncomfortable, painful, and may even draw blood. No one looks forward to the experience of a “thorn in the flesh,” and Paul did not describe it as an enjoyable experience. It was uncomfortable enough for Paul to pray three times that God would remove it. He went to God in faith, believing that his circumstances would change, but instead of Paul’s thorn being removed, God’s grace was simply added. God told Paul, “You don’t need the subtraction of your struggle; you simply need the addition of My grace.”
Note this: the thorn had driven Paul to his knees. Perhaps Paul had become busy with his ministerial work and was finding it easier to miss his prayer time. Maybe the first time was a legitimate excuse, but because the first time was legitimate, the next time was easier to miss. Perhaps Paul was experiencing substantial growth in one of the mission works he opened, and he was starting to think internally about the success God was allowing him to enjoy. Just maybe, Paul was beginning to think about how smart he was and how much success he was experiencing.
Regardless, the thorn returned his focus to prayer. Now, things that may have seemed so important prior to the thorn’s insertion into Paul’s life no longer required his attention. The things that had arrested Paul’s concentration slowly faded into the dark, recessed corners of his mind. The thorn had diverted his focus to God because now Paul realized just how much he needed Him.
By no means am I excusing our sin. It is not my intention to trivialize or reduce the seriousness of the moments when we fall. But could our struggles be more than an addiction? Is it possible that they are an act of grace? How many people sit in pews every week, giving little attention to their spiritual condition? Certainly, they go through the motions of weekly church services. I have no doubt that they have some form of a relationship with Jesus Christ. But how many of them truly DEPEND on God? How many never know the reality of struggling with an addiction? How many never understand the feeling of hopelessness when trying to handle situations on their own? Is self-sufficiency not the silent killer of the soul?
Yet, we face our struggles daily. Every sunrise introduces a new wrinkle to the challenge. When we are aware of our battle, we also recognize our own insufficiency. What if that is simply a different dimension of God’s grace to us? We ask God to remove the struggle, but God says, “Not when your struggle keeps you on your knees.” We plead with God for complete deliverance from our feelings, but God replies, “Not when it keeps you dependent on Me.” What if our struggle is actually a catalyst that keeps us saved? We should not despair because of our struggle; instead, we should learn to see it as an extension of God’s grace.
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