Chapter 6: The Thorn

Much to my surprise, God led me into youth ministry. I was shocked at the prospect. Here I was, a man who could hardly control himself, being charged with teaching adolescents how to live their faith in a sinful world. The irony was not lost on me. God used me to lead many teenagers—not only into a relationship with their creator, but into a lasting, growing reliance on Him to meet their daily needs. I still hear from many of these former youth who want to tell me what a difference I had made in their lives. I am truly humbled to have had that privilege.

After fourteen years in Youth Ministry, I stepped into a new role as a Worship Leader. It was another season of stretching and growth. I was now helping lead the entire church. Nearly every church I served was transitioning from traditional to contemporary worship—a rocky, tumultuous process. But it proved to be a role I was suited for. And God walked me through every bump and bruise.

During that time, I joined several international mission trips. I saw poverty I'd never imagined—rampant hunger and homelessness, overwhelming desperation, churches with only one Bible passed from family to family. And yet, the people were joyous. Content. Their worship was more intense than anything I had witnessed before.

For them, Jesus was everything. I learned the truth of: Jesus can never be all you need until He is all you have.

I began to understand how the Psalmist could write,

"Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you." —Psalm 73:25

That lesson became part of the fabric of my life. Over the years, I've seen countless souls come to faith in Jesus. I've walked with couples on the brink of divorce, sat with friends in their deepest valleys, and celebrated mountaintop moments. I've helped addicts find freedom through the healing power of the Holy Spirit—even while I remained bound myself.

That paradox was both a blessing and a burden.

God used me to lead others to deliverance, while I silently grieved my own captivity.

Looking back, I ask: Who can take a life so fractured and use it to bring healing, hope, and redemption?

God can.

Paul's Thorn

2 Corinthians 12:7-10

Paul explains that to keep him from becoming proud “because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations” he received, he was given a thorn in the flesh—a persistent affliction that tormented him. He pleaded with the Lord three times to remove it.

God's answer was not deliverance. It was grace.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” —2 Corinthians 12:9

Instead of hiding his thorn, he began to boast in it—not because suffering is good, but because weakness became the place where Christ's power rested most fully.

Paul was no stranger to spiritual authority. He saw visions. He performed miracles. He planted churches. He wrote Scripture. But he also suffered.

Not publicly. But privately. Persistently. He begged God to take the thorn away. Not once. Three times.

And God said no.

Not because He didn't love Paul. But because He did.

Paul didn't get relief. He got a revelation.

That weakness wasn't a liability. It was a platform. A launching point.

When Paul was weak, God was strong.

Ministry Isn't Proof of Wholeness—It's Evidence of Grace

I led hundreds. I taught truth. I sang worship. I discipled the broken.

And all the while, I was breaking.

But God didn't pull me from the pulpit. Instead, He poured Himself into it.

My addiction didn't cancel my calling. It clarified it. Because I knew what it meant to need grace... not once, but daily.

I didn't minister from a pedestal. I ministered from a fracture.

And that's where God shines brightest.