by Rick Duncan, CVC Founding Pastor
In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul shares that he pleaded with the Lord three times to remove a thorn in his flesh. Each time, God answered, “No. My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
It seems Paul accepted God’s answer. He stopped asking. He didn’t grow bitter—he grew deeper. He recognized that God’s plan for his life included leading with a limp. His pain wasn’t a detour from God’s will; it was part of it. So Paul surrendered. He yielded like clay in the Potter’s hands.
And that raises some hard, honest questions for us today:
- When should we accept God’s “no”?
- Does that mean we stop praying for the things that weigh heavy on our hearts?
- Can we keep praying while also being content with our “thorn”?
- How do we follow the examples of Jesus and Paul, while still holding out hope for a different outcome?
I’m not going to answer these questions like a scholar—I’ll answer like a struggler. What follows is more testimony than teaching.
A Long Struggle
For the last ten years, our family has faced a situation that’s been heartbreaking, difficult, confusing, and persistent.
Early on, I wrote out detailed prayers about this situation—prayers I still return to today. I’ve shared them with friends, asking them to intercede alongside me. I use an app called PrayerMate where I’ve stored those requests. After a recent message at CVC, I encouraged our church to claim God’s promises—especially from Isaiah 40–66. So I took my own advice and filled a notebook with prayers, pleading with God to heal, restore, and redeem what’s been broken.
But the hardship remains.
What do I do with that? Should I stop praying?
Honestly, I can’t bring myself to stop.
Paul, in his experience, received a clear answer: “No.” He had been caught up into paradise. He experienced a closeness to the Lord that few ever will. So when God told him “no,” he knew it.
But I haven’t had a moment like that. I haven’t heard a clear “yes” from God—but I haven’t heard a definitive “no,” either.
So how do we live in that in-between space? Here’s how I’m learning to navigate it:
1. Grieve.
This situation is sorrowful—for us and, I believe, for God. Scripture gives us language for lament. We’re invited to say “ouch” in God’s presence.
The Bible is full of raw, honest prayers:
“How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?” (Psalm 13:1)
“My tears have been my food day and night…” (Psalm 42:3)
“Out of the depths I cry to You, O Lord!” (Psalm 130:1)
Lament is not a sign of weak faith—it’s actually a sign of trust. When we bring our honest pain to God, we are acknowledging that He’s the one who sees, hears, and cares.
2. Receive.
I don’t know what the next ten years will hold. But today, the struggle is still here. That means I need to receive this trial as part of God’s plan—at least for now.
Sometimes when I’m walking around our neighborhood, I find myself singing songs from my childhood:
“All to Jesus, I surrender. All to Him I freely give…”
“Have Thine own way, Lord… Thou art the Potter, I am the clay…”
Receiving isn’t the same as giving up. It doesn’t mean we stop hoping. It means we stop trying to pry control out of God’s hands. It means we trust His timing, His wisdom, and His love—even when we don’t understand it.
3. Believe.
Because I haven’t heard a definitive “no”, I continue to believe that God may one day say “yes.”
I want to be like the persistent widow in Luke 18—the one who keeps coming back until the judge finally responds. Jesus tells us that story to encourage us to “always pray and not give up.” If a hardened judge can eventually respond, how much more will our loving Father?
Our God is not indifferent. He is kind. He listens. He acts. So I keep asking. I keep seeking. I keep knocking (Matthew 7:7–11). I cast my cares on Him because He cares for me (1 Peter 5:7). I trust that goodness and mercy are still following me (Psalm 23:6).
I’ll keep praying. I’ll keep believing. I’ll keep claiming the promises of God I’ve found in Isaiah 40–66. And even if He doesn’t answer the way I long for in this life, I know He will one day restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish His people forever.
No sincere prayer is wasted. Not one.
So if you haven’t heard a clear “no,” keep praying—with a heart that grieves, receives, and believes. Yes, bring your requests to God, even while embracing the thorn He has allowed.
I’ve always been encouraged by the prayer life of George Müller, a Christian leader in the 19th century. In 1844, he began praying for the salvation of five friends. After 18 months, the first came to faith. Five years later, the second. Six more years, and the third. But the final two?
They didn’t come to faith during Müller’s lifetime. But he kept praying for them daily—for 52 years. And after he died, both came to know Christ.
That’s what it means to pray and not give up.
So, dear friends, keep praying. Be persistent. Stay hopeful.
As Romans 15:13 reminds us: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”
