“…We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.” – 2 Corinthians 1:8-9
As Paul begins his second letter to the church in Corinth, he briefly mentions some troubles that he (and most likely Timothy) encountered in what was probably the city of Ephesus. But he goes on to explain that these troubles they had endured were anything but ordinary. In fact, Paul suggests that they truly thought that they might not survive.
What stands out to me is that Paul doesn’t just recall the pain – he explains the purpose of it. He says something good was produced in them through that desperate season: They came to the end of themselves. They realized that, left to their own devices, they were as good as dead. And once you come to that conclusion, there’s really only one place left to turn. They stopped relying on themselves and learned to rely on God, “who raises the dead.”
That hits really close to home for me.
I really struggle with self-reliance. When trouble shows up, my first instinct isn’t turning to God in prayer, but instead getting into problem-solving mode. I start running scenarios, making mental checklists, and trying to engineer an outcome. I can spend hours doing mental gymnastics, convinced that if I just think hard enough, I’ll find a way out. Trusting God doesn’t come naturally to me.
Then again, most of the troubles I face aren’t truly desperate ones. They’re stressful, uncomfortable, and frustrating – sure. But they’re not hopeless. They’re not the kind that strip away every false illusion of control.
But there was one exception a few years back.
I had been feeling under the weather for a couple of days and assumed it was some sort of bug that had been going around. But each day I got worse. Tylenol didn’t help. Rest didn’t help. Then one afternoon I tried to sit up in bed, and it took every ounce of energy and focus I could muster. I called my wife and told her, “You better get me to the hospital. I feel like I’m on the verge of dying.”
It turned out that I had E. coli. The infection had entered my bloodstream and was attacking my vital organs. I ended up staying in the hospital for three days, and on the second day there was a moment when I genuinely wasn’t sure I was going to make it.
I remember lying in bed and looking at the ceiling tile… all these cords and cables connected to me. I was still very weak. But somehow I groaned a quiet prayer. No Bible verses, no deal-making… Just absolute surrender.
“Lord, there’s nothing I can do to fix this. If I live, it’s because you’re not done with me. My life is in your hands.”
That was it. No self-reliance left to lean on.
Paul’s words make more sense to me now. Sometimes troubles are useful because they expose how much we depend on ourselves – and how little we actually control. They back us into a corner where “trusting God” isn’t just a spiritual cliche, but the only option remaining. My life is in Your hands.
And while I don’t go looking for suffering, I can testify to this: moments like being seriously ill in that hospital a few years ago – they have a way of recalibrating something deep inside. They remind me who my real Savior is. They remind me that it’s not my effort, not my intelligence, not my ability to figure things out. It’s God who gives life, regardless of whether it’s a season of peace and blessing, or a time when there seems to be no way forward.
Maybe that’s the divine usefulness of trouble. It teaches us, sometimes the hard way, in Whom our hope truly belongs.
Former Blackout Artist 