Many hards we face go beyond circumstances and relationships. Sometimes the hard resides in our mind. Unanswered questions nag our spirit. Riddles and puzzles swirl and entangle us. Four times, from four sources, a hard question has crossed my recent path. Why do good people suffer? Or this version: how can a God who is love allow suffering?
The news reminds us daily of a world full of pain. But perhaps more poignant weighs the personal suffering we witness and experience as we walk with our families and friends: a sudden accident taking the life of a child, spouse, parent or friend; saints in the clutches of agonizing, terminal cancer; the path of self-destruction (cutting, suicide, substance abuse) walked by teens battling confusion, torment and uncertainty; empty wombs; empty places at the family table; unbearable stories of sexual and emotional abuse; families and dreams torn apart by sexual infidelity. All striking grief and pain in the lives of God’s children.
And in the throes of suffering our souls cry out, “why? why? why?” Why doesn’t He intervene? Why doesn’t He use His infinite power to alter circumstances resulting in tragedy? Why doesn’t He bring healing? Why doesn’t He crush evil before the destructive tentacles reach us?
First, we remember God is not the author of pain and suffering. From His creative hands came all things beautiful and good (Genesis 1:31) Because He did not want a kingdom full of robotic, forced-to-love citizens, He gave us free will. Freedom to choose good or evil. Freedom to choose God or self. Freedom to choose the narrow path to His kingdom of glory and eternal life, or the wide path toward a kingdom of destruction and death.
From man’s first choosing of self instead of God, and every decision since for the same, pain and suffering entered the scene. Our lives are tarnished by sin and lived out in a world that continues to choose walking away from the beautiful, perfect life He intended for us.
So then. He has left us to suffer the consequences of our own choosing? To watch us from a distance walk through anguish and hardship, a direct result of turning our backs on His ways? Are His arms folded with an air of “Well, if you’d just have done it My way”?
Oh, no. Quite the opposite. He does not downplay or revel in our pain, nor does He forget us or abandon us in our suffering. Because He is love (I John 4:16), He comes along side us, sharing intimately in our affliction. He goes before us, working out details and circumstances that make our way smoother; easier to bear. He sends us encouragement and help through the hands and words of others.
Jesus. Emmanuel. God with us. In us. An ever-present help in our trouble (Psalm 46:1); a continuous source of compassionate love and tender mercy; a steady flowing stream of peace, hope, and even joy despite our sorrows.
God uses our pain to bring about good (Romans 8:28). In our suffering we grow desperate for Him, reminded of our need of Him. As He ministers to us, He draws us into new understanding of the depth of His love and peace.
“God whispers in our pleasure, speaks in our conscience,
but shouts in our pain.” – C.S. Lewis
Also, we gain a deeper empathy for other’s struggling. Our testimony of His presence and goodness toward us in our trial, encourages someone entering their own.
Isaiah reminds us that God is familiar with our pain (Isaiah 53:3). God took on flesh and walked the road we now walk, feeling the frailty of being human, facing loss and sorrow. Who does not cringe at the description of the horror named crucifixion He chose to bear. Not only the physical pain, but the spiritual nightmare of having all our sin poured into Him (1 Petter 2:24). Then bearing an unspeakable crush as His holy, righteous Father turned way from Him because of our sin. My sin. Your sin.
Who stood with our Heavenly Father while He watched His beloved Son being beaten and whipped; spit upon by hatred and fear? Who comforted God when evil buried His Son in a cold, dark tomb?
But. God did not abandon His Son there, but rescued Him from death and the grave (Acts 2:24). And now Jesus reigns, radiating indescribable glory, at His Father’s right hand.
That, my dear friends, He offers each of us. Rescue from our decaying flesh, some day failing us all together, replaced by a new glorious body. Redemption from a fallen world of hardship and pain into an eternal home where there will be no more suffering. No more heartache. No more confusion or betrayal. No more pain.
“Resurrection is not just consolation — it is restoration. We get it all back — the love, the loved ones, the goods, the beauties of this life — but in new, unimaginable degrees of glory and joy and strength.” – Timothy Keller
If we, with humble heart, bow our knee before Him, acknowledging our sin, proclaiming that He is God and we are not, and receive Jesus as our Savior, He opens His arms with a deep outpouring of love and peace, and His hands release all the rich blessings promised in His Word.
And He is crushing evil, the death blow already administered at the cross, the final victory just a breath away when our conquering Savior returns.
Some day there will be answers to our “why”s. We will know and understand with clarity. But, I wonder, will it matter? After shedding the limitations of our flesh and barriers to full knowledge, will our confusion be washed away as we experience His majesty and splendor? Having all our thirsts quenched by the living water that flows from His throne (Revelation 22:1); and every longing fulfilled as we dance, drenched in His glorious presence, will all our queries melt away?
Perhaps all questions will dissipate at the thrill of seeing love, sparkling in our Father’s eyes, when He gazes at us, His precious children. Home at last.
“Instead of explaining our suffering, God shares it.
Our ultimate comfort is not in knowing the plan,
but knowing His presence.” – Unknown
