2 Corinthians 12:7–10 (ESV)
“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Let’s be honest—no one enjoys pain. No one signs up for disappointment, discomfort, ridicule, or isolation. I certainly don’t. I’ve felt the sting of being left out, misunderstood, made fun of for being different. I’ve walked roads I didn’t choose and faced sorrows that felt unfair.
Coming from a background in education, I was trained to speak of self-esteem, of helping children know their worth and value. It’s a good goal—but in recent years, the message of self-worth has mutated. We’ve replaced the solid foundation of God-given identity with a shaky pedestal of self-glorification. The cultural anthem has become: "You are your own truth. Your desires define you. Everyone else must affirm it."
The LGBTQ+ movement, in particular, has adopted this message of identity as the ultimate form of personal truth. It's not just about being accepted as people, it's about affirmation of lifestyle choices, public expressions of sexuality, and the demand that society adjust its moral compass to accommodate behavior in order to validate feelings. We're told that if we don’t celebrate it, we must hate them. That is simply not true.
I don’t hate anyone. In fact, I deeply care. Because I know that chasing comfort outside of God’s truth leads to emptiness. I believe that everyone—regardless of their struggle or identity—is sacred, created in the image of God. That’s why I grieve when people are led to believe that sexual freedom or personal identity will satisfy the soul. It won’t. It’s a false comfort—an illusion that may numb pain for a season, but cannot carry you through life’s inevitable storms.
When the foundation of your identity is built on shifting desires or human approval, it will collapse when the next disappointment hits. It may feel good for a time, but it will not last. There is no lasting peace in self-made truth—only exhaustion from trying to hold it all together.
And the enemy loves this. Satan offers illusions, not healing. He disguises bondage as freedom, confusion as enlightenment, rebellion as authenticity. He convinces people that if they can just express themselves enough, they’ll feel whole. But all the while, he is pulling them further from the One who can truly make them whole.
But here’s the beautiful irony: even Satan’s attempts to destroy us are used by God to grow us. Just as Paul’s thorn in the flesh—“a messenger of Satan”—kept him humble and fully reliant on God's grace, so too does God allow hard things in our lives to shape us. The devil plots for our downfall, but God repurposes those very battles into strength-building seasons.
The stories of Job, Ruth, and Esther remind us of this. Pain and loss were real in their lives, but they were never wasted. What looked like defeat became a divine setup for victory.
The same is true today. When people look at our lives, they are watching closely. They want to know: How do you live through hardship? Where is your peace coming from? If all they see is us—they’ll only see another human struggle. But if they see Jesus in us, they’ll see hope. Not temporary hope. Real, eternal, transformational hope.
That kind of hope isn’t found in public applause, pride parades, or pronoun affirmations. It’s not found in politics or pressure campaigns. It’s found in abiding in the truth of Christ.
“So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, ‘If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.’”
— John 8:31–32 (ESV)
Freedom doesn’t come from doing whatever we want. It comes from surrendering to the One who created us. Real truth doesn’t chain us to man-made identity—it frees us to become who God designed us to be. The world's “truth” changes by the day. God’s truth never does.
Jesus offers a different kind of freedom—freedom from sin, freedom from shame, freedom from chasing affirmation. He offers peace that passes understanding. Hope that doesn't evaporate in suffering. Strength that rises in weakness.
This truth does not shame—it saves. It may confront us—but it leads us home.
So let us speak the truth in love. Let us stand with courage and compassion. Let us not bow to the pressures of culture but bow to the authority of Christ. And let us remember even in our weakness, His power is made perfect.
If you’re struggling today…
Know this: you are loved, seen, and created with purpose. But your purpose is not found in your pain or your pride—it’s found in Jesus. He doesn't leave you where you are. He lifts you, transforms you, and gives you real life.
Let the truth set you free.
