“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” —2 Corinthians 12:9

God allows us to fall not to shame us, but to strip us of pride so we can finally receive grace and know our need for Christ. —D.

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We’ve all got a taste for glory, a secret hunger for the spotlight, for recognition, for the sound of our own voice echoing back to us in praise. We hold tight to our opinions like they’re relics from heaven, and expect others to see us through a softened lens. This craving for worth, this clinging to a self we’ve polished and propped up, it poisons the soul. It keeps us from the narrow way. Even a sliver of pride can block the work of the Spirit. Wisdom slips past the proud heart like rain on stone.

So what does God do? He lets the cracks show. He lets the temptations come. He allows us to stumble, to fail in front of ourselves and others, to feel the sting of our own weakness. Not out of cruelty, but out of mercy. He wants us to see the truth, that we are not as strong as we think. That the armor we wear is full of holes. That, like Peter, we are capable of denial, even in the face of love. Peter’s fall was no accident; it was a necessary breaking, a mercy in disguise. Without it, he would never have known the weight of grace or the depth of the love that restores.

Paul understood this. He had been carried into the heights, shown visions, mysteries beyond telling, and yet God gave him a thorn. A pain that would not leave. A reminder that all strength is borrowed. That no man can boast in what he’s seen or done, only in who has saved him. And it was in that weakness, in that persistent affliction, that Paul found the place where God begins His deepest work. Where the heart gives up the lie, where the soul stops pretending to be the hero of its own story. That’s where grace comes rushing in, not to decorate strength, but to fill the empty place where pride has finally been laid down.

We all need that thorn. We need the blow that knocks the crown from our heads. Not to destroy us, but to deliver us. Because only when we stop clutching our own glory do we finally see Christ for who He is: not just a Savior, but the only one worthy of praise. The only true hero. And in that moment, when we finally give up the need to shine, His light fills the room.