“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” -2 Corinthians 4:17

“Mom! STOP! You’re hurting meeeee!”

The screaming was intense. The crying was dramatic. The flailing was next level.

And the source of all this chaos? One tiny splinter in Wyatt’s foot!

He was about five years old, and somehow that microscopic piece of wood had turned into a full-scale medical emergency in his mind. Before I even got near him with the tweezers, he had already decided this was going to be the worst pain any human being had ever endured.

I remember trying to hold his foot still while he twisted, jerked, kicked, and screamed like I was approaching him with hedge clippers instead of tweezers.

One of my girlfriends came over while all this was happening. Later she told me, “As I walked up to the house and heard the screaming, I honestly thought, ‘Mikki has finally lost it. She’s in there killing those kids.’”

From the outside, I would have wondered the same thing.

On the inside, the more he moved, the harder it became to remove the very thing causing the pain.

I tried explaining it…

“Buddy, I’m trying to HELP you.”
“If you would just hold still for one minute, I could get it out.”
“The quicker I can get to it, the quicker it will stop hurting.”

But all Wyatt could focus on was one thing: “This is going to hurt, and I don’t want any pain.”

Recently, I was remembering that whole dramatic scene and it hit me: That is exactly what we do with God.

We Say We Want Healing — But We Keep Pulling Away

Isn’t it amazing how often we pray for God to work in our lives while simultaneously resisting the process He uses to do it?

We ask Him for peace, but we cling to control.

We ask Him to remove anxiety, but we keep spinning in circles trying to fix everything.

We ask Him to heal relationships, but avoid hard conversations.

We ask Him to grow us spiritually, but resist conviction.

We ask Him to remove the splinter while jerking our foot away from the tweezers.

Just as I pleaded with Wyatt to be still, the Lord says in Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Stillness is difficult for us because stillness requires trust. We would often rather “move” than surrender.

We stay busy.
We overthink.
We strategize.
We manipulate outcomes.
We rehearse conversations.
We Google.
We panic-clean our house.
We emotionally spiral.
We call five friends.
We try harder.
We do more.

Anything but quietly trust God.

Isaiah 30:15 says: “For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel: ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.’”

Did you catch that? Not in striving, panic, or frantic movement. But rather in quietness and confidence. In trust!

The reason we feel spiritually exhausted is because we are fighting the very hands trying to heal us.

Sometimes Healing Requires Pain

The truth is that part of Wyatt’s panic was understandable. Removing splinters does hurt. Not forever. Not fatally. But for a moment? Absolutely!

And that’s the part we struggle with spiritually too. Because sometimes God’s healing process is uncomfortable.

Conviction hurts.
Repentance hurts.
Forgiveness hurts.
Surrender hurts.
Pruning hurts.
Waiting hurts.
Obedience hurts.

Hebrews 12:11 says: “Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”

What a powerful verse. Scripture never pretends growth is painless. God never says the process won’t sting. But He does promise there is purpose in it.

Wyatt thought I was causing the pain. But I wasn’t the source of his pain. I was trying to remove the source of his pain.

And how often do we misunderstand God the same way?

We interpret His conviction as rejection.
His pruning as cruelty.
His discipline as anger.
His delays as abandonment.

But God lovingly touches the very area we’ve been protecting because there is something buried there that needs to come out.

A bitterness.
A fear.
A sin.
A wound.
An idol.
A pattern.
A lie we’ve believed.

And we pull away because we think: “This hurts too much.” Yet God is not trying to wound us further — He is trying to remove what has been hurting us all along.

The Problem Isn’t the Tweezers

The real problem was never the tweezers. The tweezers were the solution. The splinter was the problem.

But Wyatt couldn’t see the difference because all he could focus on was the temporary discomfort in front of him.

And honestly? Too often, neither can we. We become so focused on avoiding discomfort that we miss what God is trying to do.

James 1:2–4 says: “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials,knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”

James is reminding us that God is doing something deeper than simply removing discomfort. He is developing us, strengthening us, and maturing us.

Faith is often formed in the moments when we finally stop fighting His hands.

Some of the deepest spiritual work God does in us happens when we quit resisting long enough to let Him deal with the real issue beneath the surface.

That’s why trials are such powerful teachers. They expose what we trust, what we fear, where we’re wounded, and where we still need God to work. Not because He wants to harm us…But because He loves us too much to leave the splinter buried there.

My mother’s heart wanted so badly for him understand “if you would just trust me for one minute, I could make this all better.”

And I wonder how many times God lovingly says the same thing to us.

Stop fighting.
Stop running.
Stop flinching.
Be still long enough for Me to heal what’s hurting you.

Your Heart Sister,
Mikki 💜

The greatest obstacle to our healing isn’t the splinter. It’s our refusal to trust the hands holding the tweezers

Lord, Help us to trust You even when the healing process is uncomfortable. So many times we panic, pull away, or fight what You’re trying to do because all we can see is the pain in front of us. But You see what’s buried deeper. Teach us to be still long enough for You to work in our hearts. And thank You for loving us enough to remove the things that are hurting us, even when it’s hard. In Jesus name we pray, Amen.