The Thorn

I’m marveling at the miracle of Holy Week! Every year, I am stopped in my tracks to consider the events that led to His resurrection. 

This week I am revisiting an old memory! One that consumed my thoughts about the suffering endured for my gain! 

The memory was not some big, grand, sweeping event.... but it forever changed my view of the crown He wore for me. 

A few years ago, I hobbled around for three days, convinced that I had somehow stepped on something terrible. I was sure there was a poisonous tip of some evil weed buried deep in the ball of my foot—so deep it couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be felt, couldn’t be found.

I couldn’t walk right.
I couldn’t ignore it.
And if I’m being honest… I may have been just a little dramatic about it. 

I kept trying to push through—telling myself it was nothing, just part of farm life. But at the same time, I was completely fixated on it.

Every step reminded me it was there. Every task felt harder. Every responsibility felt heavier. It was debilitating. 

And then… I found it. A blackberry thorn.

So small it was barely bigger than the tip of the tweezers I used to pull it out. This tiny thing is what had me limping around for three days, completely distracted, borderline convinced I was on the brink of something much worse.

The moment it came out… relief.

Immediate.

Simple.

Done.

Of course… my mind went straight to Jesus.

To the crown of thorns.

“And twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on His head…”
— Matthew 27:29

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I couldn’t handle this tiny thorn in my foot without it consuming my thoughts, making me second-guess my next step, and certainly had me prioritizing everything after the pain I was feeling. 

Yet, He endured a crown of thorns pressed into His head.

Not for a moment.
Not accidentally.
Not unknowingly.

On purpose.

For me.

While I was consumed with my own small pain, He was completely focused on His purpose.

Scripture tells us:

“For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame…”
— Hebrews 12:2

He knew what He came for, and He didn’t waver.

Not in the suffering.
Not in the pain.
Not in the weight of it all.

His responsibility… was me.

His suffering… was for my healing.

“By His wounds we are healed.”
— Isaiah 53:5

There I was, limping around over something smaller than the tip of a pair of tweezers.

It humbles me in a way I can’t fully explain. Because I know there is no way for me to fully comprehend what He endured.

But I know this: It was more than I could have endured for myself. 

It was more than any human - even Jesus - wanted to endure. He yielded to the Father and did it anyway.

Not because it was easy. But because I was worth it to Him.


So this week, as I walk through Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Resurrection Sunday, I’m carrying this reminder. My thorns were removed by a Savior who endured something infinitely greater… so that I could live!

He is the only one for me.



What small discomforts or thorns in your life have been consuming your focus—and how do they shift in light of what Jesus endured for you?

Lord, thank You for the sacrifice You made that I will never fully understand. Forgive me for how easily I become consumed with small discomforts, and help me fix my eyes on You. Remind me this week of the depth of Your love and the cost of my freedom. Amen.


Until next time, keep following the Plott, and I will be praying for us all. 💛

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

My Mountain Mover

Image
Several years ago, I was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor called a meningioma. Usually, these are harmless and removed. Mine, however, decided to settle down in a place that surgeons don’t really want to visit. So the plan became simple: Wait and see. Every year, I would go for another MRI. Every year, the report would come back with phrases like: “Minimal growth.” “Insignificant change.” After enough years of hearing those words, it became strangely normal and routine. Even comforting. Just another thing tucked into the background of life. Until this year. This year, the growth itself was still considered minimal… but the direction of growth was not. It has started creeping toward the central blood vessel running through the spinal cord. And suddenly “wait and see” became: “It’s time to do something.” What’s interesting is the treatment itself. You can’t really shrink it. You can’t safely remove it. And because of where it’s located, any symptoms or damage it causes would become p...
Read more

A Flock of Our Own

Today was a big day on the Plott farm — the kind of day that hums with excitement and smells like hay and fresh beginnings. We brought home three new sheep — 2 year-old ewes and 1 ram — rescued from a nearby herd. They were headed for slaughter, but instead, they came home with us — hand picked  — chosen! What was a terrifying day for them was, in truth, a day of salvation. The truck ride was bumpy, the new pen unfamiliar, and their wide eyes and quiet stares said it all — fear, confusion, and uncertainty. But what they didn’t know is that they were being rescued. They were being set apart for something better. They were being saved to start a new flock.  It struck me in that moment how much we’re like those sheep. We cling to what’s familiar — our routines, our habits, even the things that hold us back — because they feel safe. We resist the unknown, not realizing that sometimes God is leading us away from what’s comfortable so He can bring us into something better....
Read more

Everyday Disagreements & the Choice for Peace

If you’ve ever lived in a house full of boys, you know that disagreements aren’t rare — they’re part of the daily soundtrack. From who left the shoes in the doorway, to who ate the last snack, to why chores never seem to get done on time, conflict has a way of slipping into even the best days. It’s easy to let pride take the wheel in those moments. Pride says: “I need to be right.” Pride says, “They need to see it my way.” Pride says, “I deserve the last word.” However, the truth is that pride doesn’t build families. Peace does.  Scripture reminds us: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” – Romans 12:18  Peace means stepping back long enough to ask: “What matters more — being right, or being together?” In a family, the choice is almost always together. Choosing peace doesn’t mean ignoring problems or letting wrongs slide. It means addressing them with patience, humility, and a heart that values relationship over being “the winner.” In ...
Read more