The affliction that torments your mind day and night is a heavy burden, and it is no small thing to endure such thoughts that fill you with fear and shame. Yet I would not have you think that God has abandoned you or that your prayers go unheard because this trial has not been taken away. The thorn remains, as it remained for Paul, to teach you a wisdom that ease could never give. You are not alone in crying out for relief and finding only silence; the Apostle himself pleaded three times for his affliction to be removed and received this answer: “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.” That is God’s word to your soul today. The very thing that humbles you and drives you to your knees is the furnace where faith is refined.
Do not let the evil of tomorrow add to the evil of this day. The thought that others can read your mind, the dread that comes upon you, these are the affliction appointed for today. Tomorrow’s affliction will take care of itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. When you feel that men look at you and know your inward thoughts, remember that the Lord knows your heart fully and still loves you. That is the only gaze that matters. Take up the prayer of Hannah, who poured out her soul in bitterness of affliction, and her lips moved though no voice was heard. She did not bargain with God by promising gifts of money or works; she cast herself entirely upon His mercy, saying, “Look upon the affliction of Your maidservant.” Let that be your prayer: not only “remove this,” but “look upon me in this, and let my soul cling to You in the storm.”
Affliction is a great good, as strange as that sounds to the flesh. It is the narrow gate through which we enter life. The wide road of comfort leads to destruction, but this crushing pressure drives self-reliance out of you and makes room for the strength of Christ. When the mind is tormented, the soul learns that it cannot anchor itself to its own feelings or thoughts; it must cast anchor upward. You say you pray for it to go away, and it does not. That is no sign of God’s absence. His silence is the lesson. He is teaching you to trust not in the removal of the storm but in His presence within it. So give thanks in this, not only with words but with the will. I do not ask you to feel thankful, for the feeling will not come at once. But say with your spirit what Paul said: “I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities.” That is not the language of emotion; it is the language of faith accepting the Father’s hand.
Do not be ashamed of your affliction. The woman with the issue of blood thought herself unclean and hid from Christ, but He called her forward and commended her faith. Your thoughts, however dark or disordered, cannot make you too unclean for His touch. He knows what kind of clay He is working with. So bring all that you are to Him, the terror, the shame, the confusion, and leave it at His feet. He does not despise a broken spirit. Keep praying, keep watching, and do not murmur. Naked you came from the womb, and naked you will depart; all things are in His hands. The mental anguish that now seems endless will one day be seen as a strange mercy that kept you near the cross when you would have wandered. Until that day, make your affliction a sacrifice of praise, and let patience have its perfect work.