See what large letters I use as I write to you with my own hand! —Galatians 6:11

Some scholars have suggested that Paul’s thorn in the flesh was that his eyesight was deteriorating. Whether it was partial blindness or not, we do not know. Perhaps it was a disability.

Whatever our thorn in the flesh is, and regardless of whether we have asked for it to be removed (as we surely have), I urge all of us to realize that it is there because God says it is still right for it to be there. It is true that God will use you all the more and all the better because that disability is still there.

I once asked Joni Eareckson Tada, “Would you like to be healed?” I thought she would have a quick answer, because I thought everyone asked her that. But it was as though she had never even thought about it! Finally she said, “Yes, but,” she continued, “the most precious time of my day is when they put me to bed, and I am alone with the Lord. I am so afraid that if I didn’t have this paralysis, I wouldn’t have that intimacy.”

The reward for being patient and not complaining is worth the wait. It is what helps ensure a great reward when you get to heaven. In my opinion, because of this kind of affliction, when one doesn’t complain, the reward will be far, far greater.

The greater the affliction, the greater the reward. The greater the suffering, the greater the anointing. All this is guaranteed if you and I don’t give in to self-pity or complaining.

The thorn in the flesh gives us the possibility of a greater reward than we would have had. The greater the handicap, the greater the impairment, the greater the disability, the greater the reward if we don’t murmur. Here below you may have felt it was a deprivation. In heaven you will say (if I dare use this word), “How lucky I was to have it.” I guarantee that this is the case.

Excerpted from The Thorn in the Flesh (Charisma House, 2004).

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. —Ephesians 4:1

The way we guard against being a hypocrite six days a week and acting piously on Sundays is by applying the Word of God to our lives. Revival in a church may be quite extraordinary, but it is only a question of whether each member is following the conductor’s score in his private life. In an orchestra, the sound is no greater than the sum of the different parts. As Paul says in Ephesians 4:16, “From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love” (KJV). So our worship ought to be a glorious symphony to God—no one out of tune, no one playing too loudly, each person following his or her own score.

Though our worship is not a performance designed to attract other people, or pander to our own love of display, there is a sense in which it is a performance—a performance for God. Our worship is for God, the King of kings; should that not affect us as we prepare for the Sunday worship since our Sunday worship is the culmination of what we are all the time?

How do we actually achieve this? How does the right performance come about? The first is practice at the individual level.

We can all practice living in the presence of God from minute to minute. And in order to do this, we must outlaw all bitterness from our lives. We must seek to be filled with love, with total forgiveness, and acceptance of each other.

Excerpted from Worshipping God (Hodder & Stoughton, 2004).

By myself I can do nothing; I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me. —John 5:30

Now what are we like when we are full of ourselves? We want to talk about ourselves rather than listen; we want to defend ourselves and do not even want to consider the possibility that we could be wrong, which makes us defensive and touchy. We feel sorry for ourselves rather than look on another person’s need. We want to excuse ourselves rather than facing up to our real responsibility, which makes us critical and negative. What we have is self-preservation.

I wish to focus on what I will call the abandonment of the self-preservation.

It is an abandonment, first of all, of rights. We live in the “me” generation. “Human rights” is a phrase that we often hear. But the New Testament says, “You are not your own; you were bought at a price” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

Jesus gave up the right to Himself (Rom. 15:3). He said in John 4:34, “My food … is to do the will of him who sent me.” What does this mean for us? If He did not come to do His own will, and He gave up rights to Himself, how does this relate to us practically?

What will be the consequences if we do live like this? The other side of emptying yourself is really trusting God for the outcome. When we let go of ourselves, we affirm God’s manner of working things out. As long as we hold on to ourselves, we may not be impoverished, but we lose the fruitful outcome. But when we abandon self-preservation, surprise, surprise, we get it back a hundredfold! It means, therefore, that we trust God for the outcome. It may not be the way we would have done it, but remember that, as Christians, we have a loving heavenly Father who is all powerful and able to give what is best.

Excerpted from Meekness and Majesty (Christian Focus Publications Ltd., 1992, 2000).

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines … yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. —Habakkuk 3:17-18

The very things Habakkuk had complained about—the fig tree wasn’t blossoming, no fruit, no herd in the stalls—were still not there, and yet he was rejoicing. He wasn’t complaining now. What changed his mind?

There were three things that consoled him. The first was that he could see that God was what he saw: “The Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it” (Hab. 2:2, KJV). What a relief to know that God sees!

The second thing that consoled Habakkuk was the knowledge that though full intervention might not come as soon as he wanted—”Though it tarry, wait for it” (v. 3, KJV)—it would nevertheless definitely come. There was a plan; there was a time schedule. Maybe it’s a little longer that you want it to be, but wait for it; it will come.

The third thing that consoled Habakkuk was the understanding that God imputes righteousness to the man or woman who lives by God’s faithfulness. When we say, “God, I don’t understand it. I don’t know why You have let me wait this long. I don’t know why You haven’t stepped in sooner. But I am trusting you,” we are cleansed in that moment and given rest of soul. He says, “I like it when you trust Me that way.”

Are you looking for the vine to blossom before you can rejoice? Are you waiting for the raise in pay? Or for that answered prayer? Are you waiting for everything to fit in before you start praising the Lord? If that is so, then turn in your badge now and give up. As Proverbs 24:10 says, “If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small” (KJV).

Like Habakkuk, you will be given grace to trace the rainbow through the rain.

Excerpted from Worshipping God (Hodder & Stoughton, 2004).

Those I love have turned against me. … I have escaped with only the skin of my teeth. Have pity on me, my friends, have pity, for the hand of God has struck me. —Job 19:19-21

Self-pity doesn’t receive as much attention as some sins receive, and it doesn’t cause the scandal that some sins cause. For instance, everyone is interested in a sexual sin because it causes such a scandal. But you can be overcome with self-pity, and it won’t be as scandalous. You may think that the devil only wants you to fall into sexual sin. Listen. The devil doesn’t care how he gets hold of you, so if he can get hold of you by causing you to wallow in self-pity, he will do it.

How can we define self-pity? It is feeling sorry for oneself, and it is a self-justifying condition. It always seems right. The frightening thing about it is that sometimes we fail to recognize we are in this condition. Self-pity is acquired without any training or discipline. It is as natural to us as a pig wallowing in mire.

The devil loves your self-pity, because once you start feeling sorry for yourself you will be no threat to him. He may leave you alone. He won’t bring any other temptation into your life. He will say, “I’ve won with that person.” He can now toy with you. If you stay in that condition, you are perilously close to self-destruction, and that’s not just sin—that is gross, heinous sin. You are letting the archenemy of Jesus Christ have you where he wants you.

I will tell you where to begin to find your cure. You begin where Jesus ended His life on earth, at the cross. Until His last breath, He was being tempted to succumb to self-pity greater than any you will ever know. Jesus couldn’t even allow Himself a single instant of self-pity, because it is sin.

Jesus never sinned despite being tempted at all points as we are. He knows what you are feeling, and He understands. But you need to recognize what self-pity is and come to terms with the problem. You have to stop blaming others and admit that you have sinned before God.

Excerpted from All’s Well That Ends Well (Authentic Media, 2005).

The just shall live by his faith. —Habakkuk 2:4, KJV

Maybe we prayed every day during the week and yet have not experienced God’s blessing or seen Him answer prayer. What then? “It is required in stewards [that is, those who have been given a trust], that a man [or woman] be found faithful” (1 Cor. 4:2, KJV). Anybody can be faithful when prayer is being answered, when the wind is at one’s back, and everything is going well. But what is one to do when God suddenly hides His face? Until you have experienced the hiding of His face and come out on the other side, you won’t really come to know God as a friend.

This was Habakkuk’s experience. Habakkuk 2:4 is a famous verse that is quoted three times in the New Testament.

There is an intentional ambiguity here. The faithfulness can be God’s faithfulness to us or our faithfulness to God: the verse can be read either way, and it means both. But it can equally describe the faithfulness of the individual himself, who doesn’t give up hope. The person who trusts God and lives by His promise to bless is declared righteous in the sight of God. It applies to the future—to the fact that God will accept us in heaven—but it also applies to the present. God is saying that we are declared righteous now.

If we could only see this day, it would set us afire. If, in the moment when we don’t see answered prayer, we could just look up to heaven and say, “God, I love You anyway,” God would declare us righteous just because our faith pleases Him. That kind of faith has a cleansing result. We feel clean. We don’t understand why God lets things happen, but we trust Him anyway.

Excerpted from Worshipping God (Hodder & Stoughton, 2004).

I know, O Lord, that your laws are righteous, and in faithfulness you have afflicted me. —Psalm 119:75

How does the thorn work? Through pain. The thorn is given that we may “share in his holiness” (Heb. 12:10). It is not pleasant; it is painful. A thorn hurts. It gets and keeps our attention.

Why would God inflict us with pain? Keep in mind that this thorn doesn’t kill us; it only hurts us. The pain is necessary because God’s glory is a no-joke thing. He is determined that no flesh will glory in His presence (1 Cor. 1:29, KJV). To a great extent, the thorn will keep us from glorying in His presence. If there were no pain, we would forget; we would lapse into our normal, fleshly routine.

In the same way, the thorn in the flesh keeps us from competing with His glory. It ensures that we will not take any personal credit, and it gives Him all the glory.

In other words, the thorn hurts. It is a constant trial, and it is ever obtrusive. It is always there; it is a reminder. It is a nuisance. Paul even says, ” … to torment me” (2 Cor. 12:7). You may say, “God, that’s not very nice.” It keeps one’s feet on the ground. It keeps me from thinking that I have arrived, that I am good enough, that I am worthy. It hurts so that I might be driven to love more. It is obtrusive so that I might develop empathy and won’t be judgmental. Are you, like me, one of those who can hardly keep from pointing the finger? God has a way of sending a thorn in the flesh. It’s a nuisance that produces humility.

Excerpted from The Thorn in the Flesh (Charisma House, 2004).

Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening. —1 Samuel 3:9

What can be more important than correct listening? We only worship God to the degree that we hear Him speak. This is why there are injunctions throughout Scripture about hearing and listening. Jesus would frequently end a parable with the words, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.”

What we are talking about is the ability to recognize and respond to the Spirit’s impulse. I consider this to be the highest level of spirituality that exists.

There are two reasons why God has difficulty in getting us to listen to Him. The first is our inability to absorb or take in His counsel. We all overestimate our capacity to grasp and take in things, not realizing that if God were to tell us all there is to know, our minds would snap. God has to deal with us where we are.

The second reason why God has difficulty in getting us to listen to Him is that there is sin within us as a result of not walking in the light. We say, “Lord, speak to me.”

God answers, “I did speak, but you wouldn’t take it.”

We say, “I didn’t want that. Lord, speak to me.”

“I am speaking.”

“No, Lord, speak to me.”

God is trying to reach us, and we hear Him to the degree that we are walking in the light. Is it possible that God is trying to speak to you along a certain line, but you are saying, “I know God wouldn’t say that to me”?

When we get to the judgment, the Lord could look at us in much the same way and remind us of certain areas of our life, and we will be speechless. It’s very important that we should be transparently honest with ourselves. The final tragic result of disobedience, of course, is that God stops speaking to us.

Excerpted from Worshipping God (Hodder & Stoughton, 2004).

Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him. —John 7:38

We honor the Spirit by releasing Him. Many of us think only in terms of the Spirit coming down, but He can flow out from a well deep within us.

How do we release the Spirit, both in ourselves and in others? In ourselves it will happen when we keep peace in our hearts with everybody we know. Sometimes we play games with ourselves and pretend we are at peace and that all is fine. It is like someone who loses his temper and then says, “I’m not mad.” We can justify ourselves until we are a hundred, but the Spirit will never be Himself in us as long as we are unforgiving or judgmental, prejudiced, or speaking evil of anyone. It may mean apologizing to someone, or it may be a little thing like raising your hand in worship. But obeying His impulse is all part of honoring the Spirit and releasing Him in ourselves.

And we can release the Spirit in others when we relinquish our control over other people. We can refuse to let another person be afraid of us or admire us too much. (We never do anyone a favor by letting them admire us too much, for sooner or later we will disappoint them.)

The flesh, you see, always wants to control. But the Spirit gives liberty, and through Him we must release others to be themselves—to think for themselves. There may be people who are in bondage just because they are afraid of us, but we can help them. And when we do, the Spirit will be released to be Himself in all of us.

Excerpted from Worshipping God (Hodder & Stoughton, 2004).

He replied, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, broken down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.” —1 Kings 19:10

One of my greatest fears is that God will pass me by because I might take myself too seriously if He gave me a greater anointing. Taking oneself too seriously is assuming one is more important than he or she really is. It results in our expecting more respect and attention than is warranted. We begin feeling that we, more than anyone else, should be notified the moment God has new plans for His church—and, of course, these plans should include us.

Even when we are seeking to walk in obedience to the Lord there is a danger of taking ourselves too seriously. We may fall prey to the “Elijah complex.” Elijah’s finest hour was followed by his taking himself very seriously. “I am the only one left,” he said, having earlier lamented he was no better than his ancestors.

The twin sins of self-righteousness and self-pity so readily lift their ugly heads at us. For example, it is a rare person who can be an intercessor in prayer and not boast about it. It is a rare person who can pray for a leader and then refrain from giving advice. It is a rare person who can be greatly used of God today and tomorrow be quietly willing to watch God use another. It is a rare person who can see God answer prayer on one item and not question because He doesn’t answer other prayers. It is a rare person who can enjoy sweet intimacy with Christ today and not feel sad when He doesn’t manifest His presence tomorrow.

Few of us can handle much success, especially in the area of knowing God. God is the only one who can deal with us when we are like that. Sometimes the only way He can get our attention is by being ruthlessly silent. Don’t fear His silence. Use it to examine your heart and motives. Listen expectantly for the silence to be broken by the glory of His manifested presence once again in your life.

Excerpted from The Sensitivity of the Spirit (Charisma House, 2002).