We know what it is like to ask Jesus to remove what hurts.
Sometimes the prayer is physical. We ask Him to heal the body, ease the pain, slow the disease, restore strength, or give back what sickness has taken. Sometimes the prayer is emotional, as we ask Him to lift the heaviness, quiet the anxiety, mend the grief, or help us feel whole again. Sometimes the prayer is relational, asking Him to restore what has been broken, soften what has become hard, or heal what years of disappointment have wounded.
And sometimes, after we have prayed honestly, faithfully, and repeatedly, the thorn is still there.
That is not an easy place to live. It is one thing to talk about faith when the answer comes quickly. It is another thing to keep trusting when the pain remains, the weakness remains, the waiting remains, and the prayer we keep bringing to Jesus has not been answered the way we hoped.
John gives us a scene that presses into this tension.
“Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed.” (John 5:2–3 ESV).
That is a heavy picture. Bethesda was not merely a pool. It was a gathering place of human suffering. People carried broken bodies, tired hopes, and the long weariness that comes when healing has not yet come.
Among them was a man who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. Thirty-eight years is a long time to carry weakness. It is a long time to watch others move while you remain unable. It is a long time to keep hoping that maybe this time will be different.
Then Jesus came to him.
“When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be healed?’” (John 5:6 ESV).
Jesus saw him.
That matters. Before Jesus commanded him to rise, He saw him. Before the man walked, Jesus knew how long he had been lying there. His suffering was not hidden. His years were not forgotten. His helplessness was not invisible.
And when Jesus spoke, the man who had been unable to walk stood up. That is mercy. That is power. That is grace entering a broken body and making it whole.
But there is also something uncomfortable about the scene. John tells us there was a multitude there. He tells us there were many who were blind, lame, and paralyzed. Yet the text only tells us about one man being healed that day.
Maybe Jesus healed others and John did not record it. We know John tells us that Jesus did many other things not written in his book. But the text does not say that everyone beside the pool walked away healed.
And that silence meets some of us in a tender place because some of us know what it is like to still be beside the pool.
We have prayed. We have waited. We have asked. We have believed that Jesus could heal with a word. And yet, for reasons we may not understand, the thorn remains.
That does not mean Jesus has not seen us. It does not mean Jesus has not heard us. It does not mean Jesus is absent from the place where we are still weak.
The apostle Paul knew what it was like to ask for relief and not receive the answer he wanted.
“Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me.” (2 Corinthians 12:8 ESV).
Paul did not pretend the thorn did not hurt. He did not call weakness easy. He did not spiritualize the pain away. He pleaded with the Lord. More than once, he asked for the thorn to leave.
But Jesus answered him in a way Paul did not ask for.
“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” (2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV).
Jesus did not remove the thorn. But He did give grace for what remained.
That may not be the grace we asked for, but it is still grace. Sometimes grace looks like healing. Sometimes grace looks like deliverance. Sometimes grace looks like the burden being lifted, the body being restored, the relationship being mended, or the storm being calmed.
But sometimes grace looks like strength for another day. Sometimes grace looks like Christ holding us steady when nothing about our circumstances has changed. Sometimes grace looks like faith that keeps breathing in weakness, peace that does not make sense, and the quiet assurance that Jesus is enough even here.
That does not mean we stop praying for healing. We should bring our pain to Jesus. We should ask. We should plead. We should trust His power. We should never become embarrassed by our need.
But we also need to remember that faith is not proven only when healing comes. Sometimes faith is formed when healing has not come yet. Sometimes faith is strengthened in the place we would have never chosen. Sometimes faith learns that Jesus is not only Lord over what He removes, but also present with us in what He has not yet removed.
And still, this is not the end of the story.
The Christian hope is not that we will simply learn how to cope with brokenness forever. One day, in the resurrection, Jesus will heal completely. Not partially. Not temporarily. Not in ways that still leave shadows behind.
Fully.
The body that aches will be raised imperishable. The mind that has been burdened will know peace. The heart that has grieved will be comforted. The relationships sin has fractured will no longer carry the wounds of pride, fear, betrayal, or loss. Even creation itself will no longer groan under the weight of corruption.
“For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality.” (1 Corinthians 15:53 ESV).
That is where our hope is heading. Jesus may heal now. Jesus may sustain now. But in the resurrection, He will make His people whole.
Until then, we do not measure His love only by what He removes. We learn to recognize His grace in what remains.
Grace beside the pool. Grace with the thorn. Grace in the weakness. Grace for the waiting. Grace until the day when faith becomes sight, weakness gives way to glory, and nothing broken remains broken anymore.
As you sit with this teaching today, consider where you may be measuring Jesus’ nearness only by whether He removes what hurts. Where do you need His sustaining grace for what still remains? How might faith look different if you trusted that His grace can be sufficient even before the thorn is gone?
If you are willing, share your reflections or questions in the comments so we can learn and walk this journey together.
Click this YouTube link to watch the YouTube video: https://youtu.be/Q0Z0rYn8aXQ
#TuesdaysWithTony #Grace #Faith #Suffering #Hope