For much of my life, when I would hear about someone else’s suffering, I would typically think: suffering really hasn’t affected me. I simply didn’t see it as part of my narrative. My life was “normal” — maybe even easy. Only when I would tell others about my life — open up about my story — and their responses didn’t match what I thought my life looked like, did I start exploring my life in a new way. As a result, I have been more curious about my childhood, my family of origin, and even my life now with my husband and kids.
I thought my story was normal, and what I am discovering is that my idea of normal looked a lot like suffering. I have realized that suffering has been always present in my life, woven through most of my stories.
I lost a parent before I really got to know him; I was only 21 when my dad died. And so much of my adult life I have longed for a father. I lost a brother to cancer. And with that, an estrangement from his wife — a new kind of suffering and loss. I have lost jobs and opportunities.
One of my favorite authors, Kate Bowler, recently released a memoir titled No Cure for Being Human. In it, I think she put suffering in the correct light:
This is what happens to all of us. We fall ill. We get old. We can’t have that baby or keep that relationship. We missed our chance to go to this school or take that job. Our parents die before we know them, and our kids forget our love. We lose people before we can learn to live without them.
In other words, suffering and life go hand in hand. Life happens to everyone. No one is exempt or immune from sorrow or pain. So much of suffering is unmet expectations: expectations that life should look a certain way, and when it doesn’t, our hearts feel burdened.
As I reckoned with the presence of suffering in my own life, I grew deeply aware that I am not able to bring my own heart comfort. Within myself, I am not equipped — but I am happy to know the One who is able.
If my expectations are put in perspective, no matter what circumstances happen in life, whether good or hard, I am not crushed. I wrongly believe that I will be happy if I can just escape the suffering and pain. Joy in the journey is completely possible regardless of circumstance. Suffering is an invitation into the heart of the Lord. I am not alone.
Suffering can seem so hopeless if we only look at it through the lens of what we have lost, but this human life we live, though riddled with suffering, can be a life filled with hope if we look to the one who is called the Man of Suffering.
In turning to Jesus and remembering his suffering, we are able to find joy and peace in the troubled times. We can have joy in the journey of life. We can take comfort that he is acquainted with our human life, having lived it himself. In dialogue with the Lord and searching for him in those times has my deepest sorrow been met with hope for the future. Knowing that this life we are living is not the end of the story, but only one part of the story, will center our focus and perspective on the resurrection. Life is hard, and Christ is with me.
We were never promised the easy way, but we were promised in Hebrews 4:16 that we can approach the throne of grace with confidence so that we may receive mercy and find grace in our time of need. He is kind and he is near to the broken hearted. So today, in the midst of suffering and pain, in the midst of life, let us take comfort in knowing that this is how life is supposed to be. We are supposed to cling to the only one who can truly bring comfort. We are supposed to find God in the suffering.
