In his second letter to the church in Corinth, Paul shares a deeply personal moment. He speaks of a "thorn in his flesh," a persistent struggle that he begged the Lord to remove. But instead of taking it away, God offered Paul something even greater—wisdom. He taught Paul that his grace is enough, and that his power is most evident in our weakest moments.
Paul explains, “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. 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." (2 Corinthians 12:9–10 )
This wasn’t just a theological point. It was a lived experience. Paul wanted the church to understand that even in pain, even in struggle, God is present—and he is powerful. Paul's transparency is a gift to the church, showing us that vulnerability in ministry is not failure; it’s often the very platform God uses to display his strength.
And that brings me to my own “thorn.”
My Thorn
I grew up loving Star Wars, baseball, comic books, and the Bible. My dad and I shared those moments. I’m what you might call the “church trifecta”—a pastor, a pastor’s kid, and a pastor’s grandkid. I felt the call to ministry at 16, eager to follow the path of the two men I admired most.
Fast forward to age 48. I had served 14 years in youth and men’s ministry, then another seven years planting a church, and was now entering my fourth year leading a small rural congregation through revitalization. We’d survived a global pandemic, a painful church split, and an exodus that left us with a fraction of our original people.
The church building was old, tired, and in need of major repair. Winter was coming in New England—and with it, doubt. Finances were tight, my health was declining, and my Type A personality was screaming for control in a situation where there was none.
My wife Natalie, ever the voice of faith, reminded me that the Lord was still in control. But I struggled to believe it. Pastors I trusted told me I needed a sabbatical. I hadn’t had one in over seven years, save a single vacation. I just didn’t think we had the margin.
Then came the breaking point.
I could barely walk. My knee gave out, and the pain landed me in the ER. Blood sugar near 500. Severe septic infection. Eight weeks out of the pulpit.
Lying in that hospital bed, all I could think of was a story I’d heard about a pastor who had a heart attack—and when he returned, his church had all but disappeared.
But that’s not what happened at Legacy Church.
The Spirit moved. A retired teacher stepped in to preach. Our people rallied around my wife and me. They brought meals. Covered groceries. Loved us in ways we never imagined. They didn’t just survive my absence—they grew. And so did I.
That still, small voice came in my weakest moment:
“They are listening. Trust that they are growing in faith. It’s not about the size of the church, but the size of their faith.”
I wept. I had doubted them. I had doubted him.
Lesson Learned
“Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you?” – Yoda
That line, spoken by the Jedi Master to young Luke Skywalker, holds more truth than we might expect. Luke was looking for a warrior—but the master before him didn’t match the image in his mind. And we as pastors, too often, fall into that trap. We judge by numbers. By appearance. By control.
But God reminds us, again and again that he values differently than we do:
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.” (Proverbs 3:5–6) “For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7b)
I had believed we had to be “big enough” to do ministry the “right” way. But the Lord showed me: all he needs is a few faithful hearts. Even a remnant can be a powerful church when it’s filled with people surrendered to him.
We lost some. But we gained more—more love, more unity, more strength. The same people who were once hurt and hesitant have become a family, welcoming others in, serving joyfully, and even caring for their shepherd. This year, we’re focused on evangelism and growing discipleship. And for the first time, I see it: people stepping up, leading, ready to be used by God. Not because of me—but because God’s grace is sufficient.
Pastors, leaders, shepherds—hear me: it’s not about your strength. It’s not about your numbers. It’s about the hearts God is shaping around you. And it’s about your willingness to trust him when everything feels like it’s falling apart. God is building your team. He is growing your people. And he is never more powerful than when you are at your weakest. May the Lord bless you, sustain you, and open your eyes to the ones he’s raising up right beside you.
Don McKinnon has been the pastor at Legacy Church in Sutton, MA, since 2017. He’s all about discipleship and helping churches grow stronger and healthier. Don has been married to his wife, Natalie, since 1998. He’s a graduate of Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and is currently working on his doctorate. When he’s not leading the church or hitting the books, you’ll find him diving into philosophy or rooting for his favorite New England sports teams.