Why does God let us suffer?


We like bumper sticker scriptures. You know the ones:

        I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart.

     God will not give you more than you can handle.

Short and sweet, these verses have the hype and hope we need for the day, right?

Problem. That last one isn’t in the Bible, and not only is it not in the Bible, it’s also wrong. God will give you more than you can handle. Some of you know this in your bones because even as you’re reading, you feel broken or overwhelmed. A relationship ended, or damage from a past decision won’t let you go, or a betrayal has you reeling and you’re not sure you’ll recover.

You’re in good company. The Apostle Paul, who suffered enormous physical punishment for Christ’s sake, felt this way, too. He wrote in 2 Corinthians 1:8:

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself.

 

Well, that’s not very bumper stickerish.

There’s something about suffering and trials that makes us want to run. I know I do. After a fulfilling ministry calendar in 2022, I had planned to spend December recharging. Instead, I spent it in doctors’ offices. In the span of twelve days, I felt the white-lightning pain of a spine injury, discovered I have lung damage from the Virus That Must Not Be Named, and had a callback mammogram, confirming I have a small mass, “which will be re-checked in six months, so there’s no need to worry it,” the tech told me.

Mmmmkay.

Meanwhile Jesus’ half-brother reaches through time to tell me to “consider it pure joy when I face trials,” (James 1:2) and the Apostle Paul has the audacity to suggest I should “glory in my sufferings” (Romans 5:3). Tears streaming down my face in the MRI tube don’t seem like pure joy. Hospital gowns don’t feel like fitting garments for glory.

Why doesn’t God do something about suffering?

In her masterful book, Suffering is Never for Nothing, Elisabeth Elliot answers that question: “He did. He became the victim.”

Called a Man of sorrows and disfigured at His crucifixion to the point that people were appalled, Jesus suffered the unimaginable so we wouldn’t have to. He gave us a way out from under our sin. He came so that we could have life that overflows (John 10:10). And yet, He also guaranteed that in this world we would have trouble (John 16:33).

So, what gives? Why does it take trials to make us mature and complete (James 1:4)? and suffering to make us more like Jesus (Philippians 3:10)?

More brilliant minds than mine have wrestled these alligators to the ground, but I do know this: There’s no actual path to becoming like Jesus that doesn’t involve becoming like Jesus. And Jesus suffered.

You won’t see that on a bumper sticker, but maybe you see it in your life. Looking back on my life, I see that my most Christlike contours have been forged under extreme pressure. While I wanted relief—begged for it, actually—in hindsight, if I had received premature rescue from pain every time I asked, I would have short-circuited the most beautiful things Jesus has taught me about Himself.

I know what some of you are thinking: Wow, Laurie, super encouraging blog to start the new year.  Yet, in a weird kind of way, I’m hoping this actually is an encouragement because I know some of you are in pain. And pain has a way of feeling like a prison. We feel stuck inside while everyone else’s lives and social media feeds seem to sparkle.

So consider this your jailbreak. Prison is not where your story ends. Remember Paul, who told us his team was under pressure beyond their ability to endure? He continued on in 2 Corinthians 1:9:


”Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.”

Paul learned the secret. Suffering taught him to rely on God, who—don’t miss this part—raises the dead. God raised Jesus from the grave. He can raise the dead places in us, too. And that’s worth putting on a bumper sticker.

Laurie Davies- ARISE Marketing Strategist and Content Creator

About Laurie

As a writer, speaker, lay counselor, and the newest member of the Arise staff, Laurie has a passion for helping women step into the beauty of their calling. She is a regular contributor to Guideposts and also works as lead editor on Shaunti Feldhahn’s ministry staff. She lives in Mesa with her husband Greg and son Morgan, who is the best story she’s ever written. Connect with her on Instagram or her website.

Previous
Previous

Delight

Next
Next

The Well