“But we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust
in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead.”
(2 Corinthians 1:9)
There’s no doubt that Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 1:9 come from a place of deep affliction. And yet God designed it that way so when we read what Paul says we can be reminded where our true confidence must rest.
God answers prayer, but not usually by providing immediate relief. Instead, He leads His people into a place of weakness so that His strength and care may be displayed to us more clearly. Paul learned to welcome this method, even though it was painful. When the Lord told him, “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness,” Paul realized that infirmity was not a hindrance to God’s work but the stage upon which His power shines most clearly.
Through such experiences, God magnifies His wisdom. He guides a broken vessel through dangerous waters without allowing it to split apart. Only afterward does the believer look back and confess that no one but God could have carried him through. God also magnifies His power by sustaining and upholding His people under pressures that would otherwise crush them. Paul admits that the burden in Asia pressed him beyond strength, beyond endurance, to the point where life itself seemed finished. Yet God upheld him. Mercy intervened precisely when his foot was ready to slip.[1]
Through this process, God refines our faith and tries our patience. There are moments when hope seems extinguished … but then the Spirit guides our heart back to God with a renewed trust that is stronger than before. And we’re reminded that faith is not a product of our own temperament or natural resolve, but the gift and work of God alone.
Trials also honor the Word of God because when we encounter prolonged trials, we’re drawn back to Scripture. Promises that once seemed ordinary become lifelines. Words once skimmed over now shine with meaning. The soul learns that Scripture is sustenance, because the Word steadies our heart when circumstances threaten to overwhelm it.
Finally, trials awaken a longing for home. When prayers are answered quickly, the world feels comfortable. But when the believer must return to prayer again and again, waiting for relief, the heart begins to yearn for the Father’s presence. Earth loses its charm and heaven grows nearer. In this way God often loosens His children from this world by teaching them that lasting rest cannot be found here.
Contemplations:
- The exposure of my self-trust. I confess that I often speak of trusting God while quietly leaning on my own resolve, plans, and abilities. It is only when I am brought low that I begin to see how weak those supports truly are. This verse forces me to admit that God sometimes must strip me down before I will trust Him honestly.
- The fear of waiting. I recognize my impatience when prayer is not answered quickly. Waiting unsettles me. I want relief before my faith is tested too deeply. Yet I see that God uses delay to reveal what truly lives in my heart. The waiting exposes whether I seek God Himself or merely His gifts.
- The testing of faith. I notice that my faith feels strongest in calm seasons, yet it proves its reality in distress. When pressure comes, I often think my faith is gone, only to discover later that it endured in ways I did not expect. This helps me see that faith is not something I produce, but something God sustains even when I feel weak and emptied.
- The longing for home. I can tell that suffering loosens my grip on this world. When comfort fades, heaven feels more real and necessary. I confess that I often cling to earth’s comforts, but trials awaken a deeper desire for God’s presence. They teach me that rest is not here, and that my heart was made for more than this life can give.
Prayer (Confession)
Holy and gracious God, I come before You confessing that I have trusted myself far more than I have admitted. Even when I speak the language of faith, my heart often leans on its own understanding, its own strength, its own sense of control. I confess that I resist weakness. I fear being brought low. I do not welcome the sentence of death within myself, even though I see now that it is meant to turn me away from self-trust and toward You.
I confess my impatience in prayer. When answers delay, my heart grows restless. I question, fret, and secretly question Your wisdom. I act as though You owe me timely relief, forgetting that every mercy I receive rests on grace alone. Forgive me for this spirit that rises so quickly within me, even after years of knowing Your truth.
I confess that I often misjudge faith, measuring it by how confident I feel rather than by whether I continue to cling to You when all comfort is removed. I am quick to despair when I feel weak, forgetting that Your strength is shown most clearly in weakness. I have doubted Your work in me simply because I could not see it operating the way I expected.
I confess my attachment to this world. When life is comfortable, I tend to settle in. I lose my longing for home. I cling to ease, routine, and stability as though they were permanent. I see now that You sometimes withhold comfort to awaken my heart, to remind me that I am only passing through.
Lord, forgive me for resisting the very means You use to glorify Yourself and refine my soul. Forgive me for shrinking back when You are teaching me to trust You more fully. Forgive me for treating weakness as failure instead of instruction.
Teach me to accept Your providences without resentment. Teach me to wait on You without complaint. Teach me to trust You when every natural support collapses. Empty me of myself so that I may rest entirely on You, the God who raises the dead.
I lay my pride before You, my impatience, and my fear. Deal with me according to Your wisdom and mercy, not according to my comfort or expectations. And let my weakness magnify Your grace.
In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.
Further Scripture References for 2 Cor. 1:9:
Jer. 17:5; Job 13:15; Prov. 28:26; 2 Cor. 4:7
[1] Thomas Boston, The Whole Works of Thomas Boston: Sermons and Discourses on Several Important Subjects in Divinity, ed. Samuel M‘Millan, vol. 6 (Aberdeen: George and Robert King, 1849), 347–350.
