How to Pray When… The Answer is No
August 17, 2025
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Scripture Reading
2 Corinthians 12:1-10
1 I must go on boasting. Though there is nothing to be gained by it, I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. 2 I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows. 3 And I know that this man was caught up into paradise—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows— 4 and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. 5 On behalf of this man I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses— 6 though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me. 7 So 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. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Last night, we had a few people at our house for the final prayer meeting. We’d been having them all week as a kind of special thing. Anyway, as we began I asked if we could each share a time when prayer was meaningful, whether meaningful because of the words that were prayed or the circumstances around the prayer or whatever. And we all had stories when prayer was meaningful.
All summer we’ve been preaching passages from the letters of Paul that deal with prayer. Clearly the times of prayer Paul mentioned in our passage were very meaningful to him, though not in the way he had first hoped. This is the final sermon in our series on prayer, and in it we’ll tackle the question of how to pray when the answer is no. I’ll pray as we start, but just a quick trigger warning for those of you who own parakeet birds: In just a moment, I will be recounting a sad story about a poor parakeet named Squishy. Let’s pray as we begin.
“Dear Heavenly Father . . .”
So, friends at church had a few parakeets. We visited their house. The birds seemed so fun; they flew around; you could hold sorta them; my kids thought they were cool. And a few months later, we got a call that the parakeets were coming to our house to stay because they now belonged to us. As that phone call was told to me, I it seemed more like a statement than a question. The truth gets a bit hard to remember. (Our friends here at church might remember that part differently.)
Anyway, the birds come; they are still fun. But apparently, parakeets are also messier and noisier when they live with you than when you only spend an hour with them. It’s fine, we think. Then, one of the birds, the one we called Squishy, starts to struggle. Poor squishy. Here’s his story.
I haven’t said this yet, but the parakeets lived in their cage in our dining room. So we saw them at every family meal, typically breakfast and dinner. One afternoon he started to look a little sick. So we prayed at dinner. Then he looked sicker, so we prayed more.
One day he stopped flying around. We prayed more. “Lord, thank you for our dinner, and help Squishy to feel better and be healthy. Amen.” Remember, this situation was a sort of an “in your face” situation because, at dinner, Squishy lived right behind my head and in front of everyone else. Well, then Squishy moved to standing on the bottom of the cage. “I think he’s not doing good,” we’d say. We prayed more. Then he started lying on the bottom of the cage. More prayers. Then he didn’t move. You see where this is going. Then his feet went into the air and then he went in an old Amazon box to our backyard.
Okay. I gave you the trigger warning. Now, clearly I told the story with a bit of intentional humor. But you all know that I’m not setting us up to talk about parakeets. And in truth, that story—in real time—didn’t seem very funny to me and our family. You might have pets and know it’s not funny when they get sick. Not only can it be expensive, but you care for them and love them. We just took family photos, and for the first time, our dog joined us in some of the pictures.
This morning we’ve gathered to give serious consideration to a serious experience. We’re talking about the struggles we have to believe that God our Father is good and that he cares and that he loves us when he answers our prayers with no.
And when we’re talking about God saying no, we’re talking about some of the biggest issues we could talk about. It can push us into the topics of good and evil and how a loving God allows suffering. That cluster of questions is so important that theologians have given it a name; they call it theodicy, the relationship of God’s vindication of his goodness in the midst of evil and sometimes unspeakable suffering.
And while those questions could sound enormous and overwhelming—and they are—it’s also common, really normal. We all wonder about these realities. We might go through seasons where these are not burning questions at the front of our minds. In other seasons we do feel these questions in acute ways and with significant consequences.
Some will say, “I prayed for Grandma to be healed, and God said no, so I’m not going to church anymore—ever.” There are like seven hundred versions of that. So this is really common. We’re talking about why a college rejected us or why a boyfriend or girlfriend dumped us and won’t return our texts even though we’re praying. We’re talking about why a son or daughter doesn’t want us in their life, and we’re praying. Why the house keeps breaking or all the job interviews lead to rejections, and we’re praying. Why the cancer won’t go away, and we’re praying. And six hundred and ninety-four other situations.
I’m not sure if you followed this story. It’s amazing. How does the Christian music artist Forest Frank break his back one week (which happened a month ago) and then like two weeks later he’s miraculously healed and dancing at concerts? How? Well, only God can do that, of course. But if he gets yes to his prayers, why do I get no? Maybe he’s a better Christian than me. Or God loves him more. Or God can’t heal me. Or maybe God’s not really good. Then Satan whispers that God probably isn’t. Or that he only heals real Christians and you’re not real. And so on.
Do you see how all the questions can pivot to become accusations that begin to shake and stir in our souls? Our struggles with God and with prayer might become like vinegar and baking soda in a corked bottle ready to explode.
Now, my goals are much, much lower this morning than to explain the universe and God and suffering, at least to explain them exhaustively. But I do want you to know that I know that for many of you, these questions live only a few inches below the surface of your Sunday morning best. And I want you to know that you are very welcome to be here. And I want you to know I’ve been praying for you. And I hope what we see in God’s Word helps you persevere in your faith, just as I hope it helps me.
We’re in a series on prayer, and so I’m comfortable narrowing our focus. We simply want to see what Paul has to say about prayer in this passage. Which is a way to say that we want to see truths that God wants us to know about prayer.
I only have two points to organize the sermon. We’ll first discuss Paul’s struggles and our struggles. Then we’ll discuss God’s sufficiency for Paul and God’s sufficiency for us.
1. Paul’s struggles and our struggles
So, let’s talk about Paul’s struggles and our struggles. I want to read the first six verses again, but before we do, I’ll just read the first few words. They say, “I must go on boasting…” That’s an odd statement. To convey the sense of what he means, we might have better put boasting in what we call scare quotes. The “boasting” isn’t the typical boasting. His “boasting” is an ironic foil to the actual boasting of others. I’ll explain.
Paul’s ministry in Corinth existed in a culture that values power and prestige and viral sermon clips and good-looking, well-dressed preachers, and these so-called “super apostles” (cf. 2 Cor. 11:5) who seem to be leading slick ministries and boasting about that and their extravagant experiences with God. And I’m sure that for a small price, they would even be willing to share their great secrets with others, showing how you, too, can have your best life now.
If all this sounds relevant, it’s because it is. And when we pick up chapter 12, Paul has been addressing sinful boasting for several chapters and doing some of his own “boasting”—but not really, if that makes sense. Let’s just read it again. He then writes,
12 I must go on boasting. Though there is nothing to be gained by it, I will go on to visions and revelations of the Lord. 2 I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows. 3 And I know that this man was caught up into paradise—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows— 4 and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. 5 On behalf of this man I will boast, but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses— 6 though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me.
This part of the passage doesn’t really address Paul’s struggle and our struggle. We’ll get to that in a moment. When he says, “I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven,” he’s talking about himself. The experience was so wonderful, his modesty keeps him from saying outright that it was him, even though he says it in a way that we all know it’s him.
We can’t be sure exactly what it means by the third heaven, what in v. 3 he calls paradise. Likely it’s the idea that the lower sky, with clouds and birds and parakeets, is first heaven. The higher up sun and stars are the second heaven. And the third heaven is some place way above all of that—and more important than being high in the heavens, the third heaven is the place where God dwells. Paul says he had some kind of revelation where he had such sweet intimacy with God—whether in his body or just some kind of experience in his mind that was super real (only God knows), but it was so wonderful he can’t even talk about it.
It is worth noting that even for Paul, this kind of ecstasy with God didn’t happen often. It happened one time, something like fourteen years ago. And he never talks about it because he doesn’t want that to become his boast. To put it more in context, he doesn’t want this experience to become a focal point in his ministry resume because he knows that the super apostles claim to have these experiences all the time and that they try to monetize the experience, which he wants nothing to do with.
And in the context of these revelations, God—who is Paul’s good Father and our good Father—knows that such revelations can puff up one’s ego, and that it can happen not just to Paul but to all Christians. So God gives Paul something to keep him humble and happy and dependent upon God. I’ll keep reading in vv. 7–8.
7 So 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. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me.
We don’t know exactly what this thorn was, whether some psychological discouragement or the persecution he received or something physical. I suspect it was first physical, and that physical something became, over time, a thorn that checked all the suffering boxes. It became an emotional and psychological discouragement, and the very place where Satan’s messengers attacked him. Which is often what happens with any prolonged trial. A prolonged suffering becomes not only physical or not only financial or emotional or relational or psychological or spiritual, but all of them at once, tumbling on top of each other and rolling down a hill and gaining dangerous speed.
And Satan uses them to attack Paul. You know these kinds of attacks too. “Look at your life,” Satan says. “God doesn’t love-love you. You don’t have what they have. You don’t excel in the ways they excel. God heals others, but not you. He gives them a spouse and children, but not you.” And so on.
Quickly it can feel like we’re all back in the garden of Eden and Satan is whispering, “You will not surely die,” and “If God really loved you, he’d give you access to that tree that over there, the one he says is off limits. It will make you wise; you’ll be like him.”
We’re in a series on prayer, right, so I’ll highlight that Paul tells us that he prays three times. Actually, the word he uses is pleads three times. I take that to mean his times of prayer were serious and sober, and maybe even somber. He likely wrote it down, scheduled times for regular prayer, and involved others. I doubt when he says he pleaded three times that it means he prayed one day before breakfast, “Lord, thank you for this omelet. Please take away this thorn.” And at lunch, he prayed, “Lord, thanks for this sandwich. Please take away this thorn.” And at dinner, “Lord, thank you for this meal; bless the hands that prepared it; please take away my thorn. Amen.”
I bet Paul’s pleading involved fasting for days and days. I bet Paul screamed until his voice was raw. Then he sobbed until he got dehydrated. And he did it three times, each probably more intensely than before. And we should too, sometimes at least. Jesus himself prayed three times in the garden before his crucifixion (Matt. 26:36–46). His prayer was repeated and he involved others. He prayed with such anguish that one writer tells us his sweat became drops of blood (Luke 22:44). And Jesus never sinned, even when he prayed three times, “Let his cup pass from me.” This was his desire.
Our struggles have a way of throwing us back, either to God or to our own supports. In the context of Paul’s prayers and Paul’s pleading, Jesus sent deliverance to Paul—not the deliverance Paul necessarily wanted or asked for. But deliverance nonetheless.
2. God’s sufficiency for Paul and God’s sufficiency for us
What was that deliverance? We’ve talked about Paul’s struggles and our struggles. Let’s finish by talking about God’s sufficiency for Paul and God’s sufficiency for us. God has a sufficiency of power and a sufficiency in grace that can superabound our struggles and sorrows. We even read that Jesus tells us that his “power is made perfect in weakness.” The idea is that what God does best, what his power is absolutely perfect for, is sustaining us when we’re weak. Let’s read vv. 8–10.
8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 10 For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Paul says the words “therefore” and “then.” “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses…” and “For the sake of Christ, then [or therefore[, I am content with weaknesses…” (The Greek has two words for therefore, one at the start of v. 10 not translated in the ESV.)
This means we should not overlook the time involved for Paul to come to these conclusions. It was fourteen years ago, then there was the thorn, so maybe he’s lived with it and lamented it for a decade. But his settled belief, his “therefore” that he’s come to believe—especially upon hearing this word from the Lord—is that Jesus is enough. His settled belief is that the power of Jesus is made perfect in weakness. That’s the meaning of sufficiency. God’s power is enough for your weaknesses, your insults, your hardships, persecutions, and calamities, and whatever else you might experience.
In fact, in our struggle is where Paul says Jesus dwells. Look at the end of v. 9. Paul says that “Christ may rest upon me.” That word for rest upon, is used in the Bible for God building his tabernacle or his tent among his sinful people. When the apostle John uses the same the word in his Gospel, he speaks of the Jesus as Word who become flesh and dwelt among us, or tabernacled, or tented, or rested among us. The idea is that in our struggle, God in the person and work of Jesus draws near, whether we can see it or feel it in the moment.
I have been helped by pastor and author Jared Wilson on this point. He beautifully describes what it means to be broken and yet still loved by God. He knows what it’s like to let go of the rope we’re all holding on to and let Jesus catch him. Wilson writes,
I have a problem with all the “chase your dreams!” cheerleading from Christian leaders. It’s not because I begrudge people who want to achieve their dreams, but because I think we don’t readily see how easy it is to conflate our dream-chasing with God’s will in Christ. You know, it’s possible that God’s plan for us is littleness. His plan for us may be personal failure. It’s possible that when another door closes, it’s not because he plans to open the window, but because he plans to have the building fall down on you. The question we must ask ourselves is this: Will Christ be enough? (The Story of Everything, 122)
The Bible tells us over and over that God has sufficient power and grace for Paul and for us.
Even here in this passage, notice that God’s design for Paul is happy humility and joyful dependence upon Jesus. It’s only the messenger of Satan who tries to twist the thorn into something ugly. But behold even in this attack from Satan the sufficiency of God’s grace and the perfection of his powerful and the enough-ness of Jesus. The very aim of Satan that he tries to twist of Paul’s harm, gets twisted back by God for Paul’s good. Satan doesn’t want Paul to be happily dependent but rather despondent toward God and distant from God. But God draws close. He sustains Paul’s faith.
And this reversal is not some strange pattern of God. All through the Bible we see this loving, caring, reversal. What others intend for evil for God’s people, God works for good (cf. Gen. 50:20; Rom. 8:28). We see this in numerous stories, but especially in the story of Jesus’s redemption. Satan caused Judas to bring Jesus down. And Jesus may have gone down into death—but God raised Jesus up, exalted him in life, and in doing so reversed the plan of Satan.
In another other letter, Paul speaks of the death of Jesus as the way he was not only undefeated by Satan, but how Jesus defeated Satan. Paul writes in Colossians 2:15 that on the cross, Jesus “disarmed the [spiritual] rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.”
Look, if you’re in the midst of something hard, tell God about it. Commit to three serious and sober times of prayer. And maybe not three times. Do thirty-three times. Do three hundred and thirty-three times of prayer.
And he may answer those prayers in the exact way you want. And he may not. But in the season of sorrow and in the season where you feel in the shadows and hidden from the light of God, trust that God has not fully left you or abandoned you.
Because he promises he never will.
Jesus told his disciples, “In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). And if you are in him, you will overcome the world with him. He’s sufficient and he’s enough and his power is made perfect in your weakness.
Let’s pray. “Dear Heavenly Father…”
Sermon Discussion Questions
What sorrows in the past caused you to struggle that God is good? If you’re willing to share, what are present struggles?
How has God carried your through those times? What role did prayer have in these seasons?
Look at again at the Jared Wilson quote. How does that land on you? Do you think it fits with the meaning of the passage (and other parts of the Bible)? Why or why not?
How might you be able to help others going through seasons of sorrow?
Benjamin brought up the word “therefore” in v. 9 and this was Paul’s settled view of reality. How does knowing that encourage us? (Hint: remember Paul was a human, not a “faith robot” and likely there were struggles along the way, which is why he pleaded three times, not zero times.)
In what ways did Jesus both get his prayer not answered and answered when he prayed, “Father, if you are willing, let this cup pass from me, but not my will but yours be done.” How might his prayer serve as a model for our own?
Spend time brainstorming 6-8 promises that we have from God (like, “Do not fear, I am with you” or the one Benjamin quoted, John 16:33). Use those in a time of prayer, asking God to help you believe them even when you are not currently experiencing them as true.
