Burdened? (Part 2)

This is the second part of what I was sharing about the Lord's plans often seeming really different than our own plans.  I have edited it in a couple minor ways so it can be read by itself, but I would encourage you to read the first part before beginning this. 

The Lord had plans waiting for me that a half a year ago I would have thought would cause the end of the world.  He had a plan that tonight we would be eating pizza and watching a movie on the living room floor instead of a home cooked dinner at the dining room table because of an unintended (but welcome) house showing at 5:30 tonight. He had a plan that I would be sitting in Isaiah's bed at 9:45, shooting endless "I'm tired, make him go to sleep!" prayers up to the One who was probably laughing with delight.

Yes, delight.  I have a feeling that this is all to Christ's delight.   In one of Paul's letters he mentions a thorn in his flesh.  Some Bible scholars are pretty sure that this is a spiritual thorn, but I've always wondered if it was a real one.  I mean, Paul was human too, right?  And traveling through the rough country of the ancient Middle East couldn't be too free of thorns and other mishaps.  But back to the subject, I thought about Paul's thorn (or "handicap," in Eugene Peterson's Message version) today while looking at the Matthew passage.  I definitely feel like this constant tired and stressed and hectic lifestyle is a thorn, too.  But what did Paul do about his thorn... and what should I do about mine?  Here's his version of the story of his burden:

"Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,
My grace is enough; it's all you need.
My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."  (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, MSG)

Sometimes I feel like Paul.  I beg, plead, cry out to the Lord to simply get me through the hard times in my life and lead me to the easier pastures.  But it's not His plan.  It's not what He wants from me.  He wants me to use his strength to deal with my own weakness.  My human limitations, that "cut me down to size," are simply tests to see if I'll be humble enough to be cut down and torn up so I can be blessed enough to be able to see God carry me through and set me safe on the other side.  His delight and happiness only grows stronger as I become weaker and more humble and ultimately are able to say that I surrender my all to Him—that I can't handle this crazy life on my own.  And then, like Paul, I shall be able to say with a fervent thankfulness, "The weaker I get, the stronger I become."