To 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. -2 Corinthians 12:7 ESV

Three times the apostle Paul asked God to remove the thorn from his side. We have no idea what Paul struggled with, but we know that it kept him dependent on God. Over time, Paul accepted this about himself because it was in Paul’s weakness that God’s greatness was magnified.

We all have a thorn. Mine is ADHD.

I dismissed this notion after receiving my diagnosis in college because I thought it wasn’t real and I wasn’t classically “hyper.” After all, I only had a “no crossing zone” perimeter taped off around my desk in one class in high school.

My dealings with ADHD have left a path of destruction far and wide. I quit high school and my first husband. I often intend to do so many things that never get done. I have friends who would describe me as tepid even though they mean more to me than they realize. I can create six million schedules and still not have the discipline to follow one. I am prone to moodiness, and I have one great battle. Anger.

I can go from zero to sixty in less than a second, and as soon as I come unglued, I hang my head in shame. Recently, I rode with my husband and daughter to my grandmother’s funeral and sat white knuckled behind the wheel as I seethed over something my other half said.

Julia, my five year old, yelled from the back, “Stop this madness!” I felt like I had been slapped across the face with a giant wake up call.

Time and time again we are warned how important our words are to others. When spoken in anger or carelessness, they can cut to the core and wreak havoc on those we love. Our words can destroy our witness when our goal should be to show others the love of Christ.

It can be enormously frustrating to realize that you are powerless to stop a debilitating pattern.

But He isn’t powerless.

I may never conquer the overall pattern of ADHD, but through Him, I can overcome the aspects that hinder what God can accomplish through me. I will never again utter the excuse,  “I am who I am.”

On the way home from the funeral, I was talking with Brian when Julia leaned forward, cocked her head to the side, lifted one side of her headphones, and asked if we were arguing. When I assured her we were laughing, she looked at me with relief and said, “I’m glad. That’s better than that madness from the other day.”

My daughter was willing to look beyond my shortcomings in the hope that I could be the mom I am supposed to be for her. When my frustration mounts, I need to remember that God can move me beyond my shortcomings and mold me into the mom He wants me to be for my daughter, the wife He wants me to be for my husband, and the friend He wants me to be to others.

He can mold all of us into ambassadors for His Son despite our thorns. Our thorns can show His magnificence in our weakness.