Elijah was suicidal. Job wished he had never been born. David understood deep depression. Moses was anxious. Hannah was barren. Jonah was angry. Paul was all alone in a prison cell.
And actually, this is only a brief list. The Bible is loaded with flawed people who stumbled trying to be faithful. God uses imperfect people, because there really isn’t any other kind to be found. And there were others.
Noah got spectacularly drunk. Abraham lied. Jacob repeatedly deceived others. Rahab was a whore. Samson lusted. David committed adultery and was a murderer. Peter denied Christ.
Why does God favor and love people who are so disturbed? Honestly, none of us measure up. It seems He uses the weak to carry out a plan and a purpose of redeeming others, and establishing a Kingdom. He takes messes and gives them His message.
He is Love– 100% of the time, and He loves you, and He loves me, He loves the world. (John 3:16.)
Messed up people of faith become instruments and vessels of grace to other messed up people. We carry a treasure that is not ours. Sometimes it takes years to see this. I hope you can understand this. I hope it doesn’t take long.
And nothing is ever really wasted. Our mistakes (sins) become useful things to Him. For example, David’s sin would be transformed into Psalm 51 and 32. Yes, his disobedience had consequences, I won’t dispute that, but something wonderful also came when he repented.
David paid an awful price for his sin. That disobedience almost destroyed him. Not only did it separate him from God, but his family felt the effects of his evil actions.
Yes, you need to repent. But when sin is destroying you, it does seem you need to turn from it, and leave it now.
The first two verses of Psalm 51 can bring tears when we finally understand their profound beauty, for they came out of David’s personal evil:
Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!
Psalm 53:1-2, ESV
For thousands of years people of real faith have come and drawn beauty and grace from this song. David knew his sin was real, and incredible pain emerged from that, but the Psalm did also.
Please do not try to hide or excuse your sin, it always has the most awful consequences.
Broken people can be forgiven, redeemed and used. Sometimes I think God gets special enjoyment out of picking the worst and patiently loving us to wholeness. If you really know Him, and know your flaws, you’re well on your way of usefulness in His kingdom.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.”
There can be no resurrection power without crucifixion weakness. There can be no power unless you die to self, taking up your personal cross. Many are frustrated by this. This teaching is not fully understood or really preached.
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
Crosses hurt, for they are a way of dying to self, plain and simple. Every spirit-filled believer must die to his agenda. If you want a resurrected life, overcoming sin and death, you must carry your cross. Death comes first, and then is resurrection. There is freedom to all who obey.
Simply put, there’s no other way for you to be holy but a cross.
Whether you’re struggling with a physical ailment (think pain), or a mental illness (also pain), you still must carry a cross. Our issues can be formidable, I understand, but you’re not exempt from the terms of discipleship. All must follow Jesus.
Jesus fully understands Calvary. He recognizes agony. His pain was real. I believe that He knows this intimately. I also think Jesus understands our weakness and confusion. His grace meets every believer. No matter if they struggle and stumble. The Spirit teaches us. All who really come are redeemed.
I think He understands our reluctance and hesitation.
I want to follow Him. I’m pretty sure that you do too (you’re reading this which tells me something). So what cross are you called to carry? They seem to be custom made–designed uniquely for you. But it’s also true that others have been tempted, just like you.
Your cross must be deliberately chosen.
It’s often a path of brokenness and humility. It may involve shame and pain–a reproach to those who can’t understand. But if you take it up you can expect the world to belittle you. If they abused Jesus, you can count on them belittling you.
Avoiding your cross means you have been conformed to what the world thinks, and that’s an awful place to be. You really can diminish your cross without doing harm to your spiritual walk. Honestly, there is not another way.
His resurrection power is given to those who have already expired. Struggles with sin and doubt often evaporate when He abides in you. He’s the power given to overcome. He’s the only one who can give it to you.
“To take up the cross of Christ is no great action done once for all; it consists in the continual practice of small duties which are distasteful to us.”
You may struggle with this and I hear you. This is not an easy word. I don’t know if I’ve given this topic justice, but I pray that I’ve touched the heart of Jesus. I stress that’s a hard word, but I think it’s true.
“The cross of Christ is the sweetest burden that I ever bore; it is such a burden as wings are to a bird, or sails to a ship, to carry me forward to my harbor.”
“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.”
James 1:2-3, ESV
“There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.”
“All joy,” (verse 2) is a fantastic thought. It stresses a joy that becomes militant, something powerful and significant. “All joy,” surpasses “some joy” or even “occasional joy.” Instead it’s a joy that remains joy even when tired and weak. It will only shine brighter in the darkness.
Jewels, diamonds, and pearls are typically displayed on a black background.
This reveals their brilliance and value. In the same way darkness should only encourage us to be deliberately brighter than our surroundings. We must understand that we shine only because He makes us shine. There is a divine incandescence that awaits every believer who feels the need or desire for more of God.
God’s special nearness is available to each believer, especially those in the heat of the furnace. He is close to those who want Him, and there is nothing will stand in His way. The Lord cherishes and treasures the seeking heart. There is nothing that can detour the believer’s yearning after their Father. Your faith must be purified, and this is never optional.
Name your trial, then turn it to God in prayer.
Leave it alone and refuse to carry it no further. It’s now the Lord’s concern. Simply watch for the deliverance to come. When God sees your heart, He will lavish Himself out on you. He delights to see your faith becoming solid and real.
Trust Him.
“God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain.”
It’s easy to romanticize physical suffering — especially when you’re not the one experiencing it.
Saints like Amy Carmichael, who spent over twenty years bedridden, and Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic who lives in constant pain, can evoke peaceful images of unbroken communion with God. We may imagine that it’s easier for them to endure pain and weakness than it is for the rest of us.
Yet the reality of physical suffering is that it’s insistent and intrusive. No one gets used to it. Pain demands our attention. Time slows to a crawl, particularly in the middle of the night, when we’re begging God for the relief of sleep. We feel alone and isolated. No one else can enter the prison that our bodies have become.
Pain Accumulates
If that weren’t enough, physical pain rarely exists in isolation — it’s usually accompanied by loss, weakness, and dependence. Often, we require help with basic daily needs, and we worry about the burden we’re putting on others. We second-guess every request, not wanting to bother someone one more time. Will people get tired and think we’re “too much”? Do they resent their lack of freedom?
We longingly remember the carefree days before our physical struggles altered our lives, when we could do what we wanted. Now we measure our energy in teaspoons rather than buckets. We weigh every decision, every action. Saying yes to one activity means saying no to many others. It is hard not to envy those with fit bodies, who seem to have no cares.
Pain, loneliness, and longing can give way to depression and despair. We cry out to the Lord for relief, but relief doesn’t come. The cancer spreads. Sleep eludes us. The pain intensifies. The medicine stops working. The side effects multiply. Our caregivers grow weary. Our friends stop checking in. Our resources run dry.
Doubt Advances
The vibrant faith we once had begins to fade — which is exactly what Satan wants to happen as we suffer. He wants us to doubt and fall away from God, convinced that he is indifferent to our cries. Satan knows that we’re susceptible to discouragement when we’re physically depleted, so that’s when he attacks. As physical needs scream for attention, Satan whispers to us, “Does God even hear you, let alone really care for you? If he does, why isn’t he delivering you?”
“If God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance.”
Insidious doubts slip in, making us question beliefs we once held rock-solid: Are we deeply loved by an all-powerful Father? As soon as we recognize the mental shift, we need to stop and cry out to God, asking him to meet us in our sorrow, to deliver us from our pain, and to show us evidence of his goodness and love. Are we fixating on all that we’ve lost, on how God hasn’t delivered us, on how hopeless we feel? Or do we recognize that God is with us, working for our good, and caring for us each moment?
What we think about in the moments of our deepest pain is critical. Our mindset will determine how we approach the questions that bombard us. Here are three common questions I’ve asked:
How can God be “for me” if I’m still suffering?
How can God use my weakness for good?
What good can come in moments of overwhelming pain?
How can God be ‘for me’ if I’m still suffering?
Sometimes God miraculously delivers us when we plead for relief, like at the parting of the Red Sea. Other times he sustains us, as he did with manna in the wilderness. The Red Sea deliverance freed the Israelites, but their need for manna kept them dependent on God. In gathering manna, they had a harder time forgetting their reliance on God. And if God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance, since it can keep us in constant communion with him.
Take the apostle Paul. He begged God for deliverance from his thorn in the flesh, but instead he received grace — grace to bear the thorn, grace to be content with weakness, grace that would carry him through other trials as well (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
When we realize that we can depend on God in our weakness, we learn to trust him in everything. Anyone can thank God for quick deliverance from physical suffering, but we often forget him until the next crisis. Yet when he sustains us in our pain, we’re confident that he is with us always.
How can God use my physical weakness for good?
We may think our physical weakness is keeping us from maximum fruitfulness, but that’s impossible. Our weaknesses are a part of God’s plan for our lives; they are intertwined with our calling. Paul thought his thorn was hampering his ministry, but God knew that it was the key to his strength: it forced Paul to be wholly dependent on God. When we are depleted and exhausted, lacking any resources of our own — it is then that we fully rely on God.
And in that reliance, we discover the power of God flowing through us — the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19–20). This power keeps us enduring when we want to give up; it showcases God’s glory and brings lasting change. Because Paul relied on God’s provision, he accomplished more for the kingdom with his thorn than he could have without it. His greatest strength lay in his submission to Christ.
Even Jesus’s greatest strength appeared in his greatest physical weakness.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus impacted others by his actions. He calmed the storm with a word. He fed five thousand with a few loaves and fish. He cast out demons, healed the sick, and raised the dead. He turned the world upside down.
But at the end of his ministry, from the Last Supper on, Jesus allowed others to act upon him: he was led away, he was whipped and mocked, he was beaten and crucified. When he submitted to his captors, the crowds saw weakness rather than what was really there: Jesus’s strength and power.
Just before these horrific events, Jesus begged God to take the cup of suffering from him. But it was through Christ’s submission to the will of the Father — to torture and humiliation, to physical abuse and carrying his own cross — that God brought about the most astonishing display of his power and grace.
Broken Believers 