What If the Thorn Stays?

What if the cancer does not go away, the divorce is finalized, the job is lost, or the miscarriage happens… Is God still God? 

One of many questions that we face when we encounter suffering. When the thorn is not removed and the pain intensifies instead of relenting, do we still see God for who He truly is?

Over the last three years, I went through a divorce, my mom had a stroke, and my older brother died unexpectedly. Just one domino after another. And then the last one fell: I was diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer.

I’ve heard some pretty bad news over the years, but nothing has ever hit like this one. It felt like a movie scene where the main character starts panicking about something, the environment becomes fuzzy, their breathing turns into a bass drum, and their eyes are searching the room for anything or anyone to pull them out of this moment. As I reached for my phone to call my dad, I felt a tug on my heart —find hope. I took a breath and surrendered. Surrounded by despair, tears flowing, struggling to slow my thoughts, I prayed: “I’m tired of running and I know I can’t do this on my own. Whatever a life of surrender looks like, I want that so please be with me, Lord.” No Oscar-winning performance or Job-like response; just an honest and desperate plea. 

I would love to say “in that moment God showed me who He is,” cue the outro, and end the story here. But it’s taken over a year of work by the Holy Spirit, long conversations with my community, prayer, self-reflection, and searching the Bible for me to begin understanding who God is in spite of our suffering. I’m still learning what it means to choose hope when the thorn stays. I hope this poem meets you where I was.

Lord, can you remove the thorn?

I asked from a chair

No bald head or clothes torn,

No ashes in my hair

Three times, Paul said.

I lost count I guess

Probably when ma was in the bed

Or when Ronnie went to rest

So the thorn may stay,

Scans stay the same

No matter how hard I pray,

I’ve stopped asking who’s to blame

But maybe this is His grace,

Morning coffee with Anna

Emptying our suitcase,

Praying for more, given manna.

Plenty times I asked: the thorn stays

And Anna can still pour two cups