Category: Suffering

  • God’s Invitations in Our Situations

    God’s Invitations in Our Situations

    In every situation, God extends an invitation. It’s not an invitation to escape our circumstances, but to overcome them—to be shaped by His presence and purpose in the middle of the struggle.

    In every difficult situation—in the midst of bad news, storms, and frustration—God is still extending an invitation. Being an overcomer in Christ is not about escaping life’s hardships, but about disarming their power to determine our destiny or define us. Spiritual growth, or formation, is the “great reversal” of moving from being the one who controls things to being a person shaped by the presence, purpose, and power of God in all things.

    The pathway to spiritual maturity often involves making peace with difficult truths that sound like bad news, but each truth holds a powerful invitation from God. We are invited to:

    1. Live from Victory, Not for Victory: Although life is hard (John 16:33), we are invited to take heart and live from the victorious salvation Christ has already secured through His defeat of death.
    2. View Death as an Extension of Eternal Life: While we are destined to die (Hebrews 9:27), God invites us to view death not as extinction, but as a doorway into our continued eternal existence in Christ, motivating us to live out the ways of heaven on earth now.
    3. Make Peace with Human Limitations: Recognizing that “you’re not that important” allows us to find freedom in living within limits, setting us free from trying to assume attributes that belong only to God, such as always being in control or striving for perfection. Our unwillingness to live within limits is a deep source of burnout.
    4. Experience the Joy of a Significant Life: When we accept that “your life is not about you”, we are called to follow the example of Jesus who came to serve others (Matthew 20:28). God invites us into the joy of a significant life (adding value to others) rather than just striving for success (adding value to ourselves).
    5. Come to God and Let Go: Although many are the plans in a person’s heart, it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails (Proverbs 19:21). The invitation is to embrace a faith that surrenders to the unknown, opening ourselves up to heaven by letting go of our own control.

    Reflect

    1. In what specific area of my life am I striving for victory rather than confidently living from the victory Christ has already won?
    2. If I truly viewed my physical death as only an extension of my life eternal in Christ, how would that change my priorities or the way I love others today?
    3. Which of God’s attributes (like needing to be in control or always having the answer) am I exhausting myself trying to live out, and how can I let go of that impossible striving and find freedom in my human limitations?
    4. Am I currently prioritizing success (adding value to myself) or significance (adding value to others), and how can I shift my focus to experience the complete joy that comes from bearing fruit for the sake of others?
    5. What bad news or frustration am I desperately trying to control right now, and how can I open myself to God’s prevailing purpose by letting go and choosing to trust Him as my good God?

    Closing Prayer

    Heavenly Father, we come to you with our bad news, knowing that in every challenge, You extend a divine invitation. We choose our “yes” to Your invitations. We pray for the grace to let go of our fear of death, our need to control, our drive to prove our worth, and the idea that our life is about us. Shape us by Your presence and power so that our trials lose their ability to define us, and instead become powerful testimonies of Your goodness and sovereignty. Amen.

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  • Mary – A Faith for the Real World

    Mary – A Faith for the Real World

    Our lives are a puzzle, and down here, we only see “imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror”. Faith is trusting that the pieces we cannot fit together now will one day form a beautiful, complete picture.

    The life of Mary was filled with “once off” circumstances we can never imitate. A virgin birth, angelic visitations, shepherds and Magi at her doorstep, and the profound mystery of raising a child who would never sin—these events set her apart. It’s easy to place her on a pedestal, seeing her as inaccessible. Yet, the core question her story poses is, “How does it relate to us?”. The answer lies not in her unique circumstances, but in her deeply human and relatable faith as she navigated a life of unimaginable divine purpose. Her journey is a profound example of real, unwavering trust in the face of the unknown.

    At the very heart of her story is a simple, yet world-changing “yes.” The angel Gabriel appeared to a girl of perhaps only thirteen or fourteen with a message that defied all logic. She was betrothed, a legally binding arrangement, meaning a pregnancy outside of her union with Joseph would be considered adultery—a crime punishable by stoning. She was “greatly troubled” and afraid, yet her response was immediate and resolute: “I am the Lord’s servant… May your word to me be fulfilled”. This was not a blind leap but an act of profound trust in the character of God, a choice to embrace His disruptive plan despite the immense personal risk and the certainty of scandal.

    Her journey immediately shows us that God does not leave us alone in our obedience. God’s kindness: “God knew Mary’s going to need a friend now”. Because who would believe her story? So the angel pointed her to her relative, Elizabeth. The moment Mary walked in the door, Elizabeth shouted in confirmation, “How privileged I am that the mother of my Lord has come to visit me!”. In that moment, God provided the comfort, confirmation, and community she desperately needed. This pattern of provision continued, as the Magi’s gifts of gold would later fund her family’s flight to Egypt, fulfilling scripture and keeping her son safe.

    However, faith does not exempt us from confusion or pain. Mary had to learn that while she was Jesus’ mother, she also had to become his disciple, a “big transition to make”. Imagine the panic of losing the twelve-year-old Son of God for three days, only to find Him in the temple. Her worried cry, “Didn’t you know we were worried about you?” was met with his perplexing response about being in his “Father’s business.” The scripture says she “did not understand,” but she “treasured everything in her heart”. This treasuring of mysteries would culminate in the ultimate pain, a pain foretold thirty-three years earlier when Simeon prophesied that “a sword would pierce her soul”. This prophecy became her reality as she stood at the cross, watching her son become a “bloody pulp, unrecognizable”.

    This is where her story intersects most powerfully with our own: the reality of suffering. It is often “totally inexplicable” and not something we deserve. When we suffer, it is not because “God is mad at you”. Rather, God uses it.

    “When he has tried me, I shall come forth as gold”.

    Job 23:10

    Suffering has a purifying effect. In a stunning paradox, the Bible says that even Jesus, who was perfect, “learned obedience through the things that he suffered”. If He did, how much more do we? Our lives are a puzzle, and down here, we only see “imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror”. Faith is trusting that the pieces we cannot fit together now will one day form a beautiful, complete picture.

    Ultimately, Mary is not a model we are called to imitate in detail, but an “example of a real person who trusted God as an individual”. The challenge is to ask, “What can I learn from Mary about living in faith in my real world?”. If she were here, she would tell us: “You can trust Him, even though life doesn’t turn out as expected. He is good and faithful, and He keeps His promises”. He knows your name, He holds you in His hands, and He will bring you safely home.

    Reflect:

    1. Mary said “yes” to God despite knowing the potential consequences. When have you felt God asking you to do something that felt frightening or uncertain? What can you learn from Mary’s immediate trust?
    2. God provided Mary with a supportive friend and confirmation in Elizabeth just when she needed it. Who has God placed in your life to encourage and support your faith during a difficult season? Take a moment to thank God for them.
    3. Mary experienced the deep pain of watching her son suffer, a pain foretold as a “sword” piercing her soul. Reflect on a time of suffering in your own life. How does the idea that suffering can have a “purifying effect” change your perspective on that experience?
    4. The sermon uses the analogy of life being a puzzle where we only see some pieces now. What parts of your life feel like confusing “puzzle pieces” right now? How can you practice trusting that “one day all those puzzle pieces are going to be filled in”?
    5. The final challenge is not to ask “How can I be like Mary?” but “What can I learn from Mary about living in faith in my real world?”. What is one practical lesson from her trust in God that you can apply to your own unique life this week?

    What personal next step can you take?

    Closing Prayer

    Father, we thank you for the example of Mary—for her courage, her trust, and her faithfulness in a life that did not turn out as she might have expected. Help us to trust you as she did.

    Now unto You, who is able to keep us from falling and to present us faultless before the presence of Your glory with exceeding joy. To the only wise God our Savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen.

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  • The Redemptive Pathways of Pain

    The Redemptive Pathways of Pain

    The Jesus we claim to follow was made perfect through suffering, yet we often prefer to be made perfect through success.

    Birthdays mark our entry into life, but the very act of childbirth offers a profound metaphor for our journey through pain: a sacred collision of agony and promise. It’s a process that stretches us to our limits, bringing fear, loss, and discomfort, yet it also carries the weight of hope, joy, and the dawn of new beginnings. Childbirth is an illustration of death and resurrection, symbolizing how, in Christ, there are redemptive pathways in our pain. Loss and suffering are not the end, but often the very process by which we enter into something new.

    Christian psychologist and author Dr. Henry Cloud puts it, “Endings are not only a part of life; they are a requirement for living and thriving, professionally and personally. Being alive requires that we sometimes kill off things in which we were once invested, uproot what we previously nurtured, and tear down what we built for an earlier time.” We constantly wrestle with the pain of endings as we move toward new beginnings. These are often seasons of intense suffering, but they were never meant to be a life sentence.

    How many new beginnings may lie on the other side of the painful season you’re experiencing, far beyond what you can currently see.

    Let’s look at two remarkable individuals from the pages of Scripture, both of whom wrestled with God in their pain: Jesus and Jacob. Jesus bore the scars of crucifixion, and Jacob walked with a limp after a night of wrestling in the darkness.

    Jesus: Scars of Victory

    Our Lord, Jesus, entered a season of intense wrestling as he faced the profound pain he was about to endure, alongside the contrasting joy set before him beyond his suffering. After sharing the Last Supper and predicting his betrayal, just hours before his arrest and crucifixion, Jesus went to the Garden of Gethsemane. Matthew 26:39 (NLT) tells us, “He went on a little farther and bowed with his face to the ground, praying, ‘My Father! If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.’”

    Jesus’ prayer shows we can hold divine purpose and human pain in tension—not as enemies, but as companions on the journey of transformation. We don’t have to reject God simply because we wrestle with Him in our pain. Instead, we can trust Him through the wrestling, knowing that in the process, He can still guide our lives into purpose and meaning.

    After Jesus had wrestled through the crucifixion, we witness his triumphant interactions with others in the victory of resurrection. He appeared to some of his disciples, who were amazed at his rising from the dead. However, not all were present, including Thomas, who declared he wouldn’t believe it unless he saw the evidence for himself – a “sign-based believer.” A week later, Jesus appeared again, and this time Thomas was there. Knowing Thomas had doubted, Jesus didn’t rebuke him or judge his feeble faith. Instead, He lovingly invited Thomas to touch His hands and side, to see for himself the scars from His crucifixion. Overwhelmed, Thomas exclaimed, “My Lord and my God!”

    The very process of pain and the wounds that were meant to kill Jesus on the cross were repurposed. They became evidence of His resurrection for someone in doubt. Consider Thomas’s encounter with Jesus in light of 1 Peter 2:24 (NLT): “By his wounds you are healed.” The scars on Jesus’ hands brought healing to Thomas’s heart. In the profound mystery of God, Thomas’s heart was healed as Christ’s scars testified to His past suffering. In the same way, your stories of hope for others may very well be read from the scars of the suffering you had to endure.

    Hebrews 2:10 (NLT) : “God, for whom and through whom everything was made, chose to bring many children into glory. And it was only right that he should make Jesus, through his suffering, a perfect leader, fit to bring them into their salvation.” The Jesus we claim to follow was made perfect through suffering, yet we often prefer to be made perfect through success. May these words find an anchor in your hearts: if you’re suffering, don’t reject God; rather, wrestle with Him in trust.

    Jacob: A Limp of Blessing

    Just as Jesus had scarred hands from suffering, Jacob had to walk with a limp. In the Old Testament, Jacob, the grandson of Abraham, had a twin brother named Esau. Jacob, known for his manipulation and deceit, had used these tactics to control and steal from his brother, leading to a bitter estrangement between them. Eventually, Jacob felt compelled to return and reconcile with Esau. As he journeyed with his family and possessions, nearing Esau’s land, he was uncertain how he would be met. He separated his family, sending them ahead, and Genesis 32:24-32 (NLT) recounts what happened next:

    “This left Jacob all alone in the camp, and a man came and wrestled with him until the dawn began to break.”

    Author Ronald Dunn, in his book “When Heaven is Silent,” describes this moment: “Suddenly, without warning, a ‘man’ leaps out of the darkness and wrestles Jacob to the ground… He didn’t think that it was God, because he had asked God to save him.”

    The passage continues: “When the man saw that he would not win the match, he touched Jacob’s hip and wrenched it out of its socket. Then the man said, ‘Let me go, for the dawn is breaking!’ But Jacob said, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ ‘What is your name?’ the man asked. He replied, ‘Jacob.’ ‘Your name will no longer be Jacob,’ the man told him. ‘From now on you will be called Israel, because you have fought with God and with men and have won.’ ‘Please tell me your name,’ Jacob said. ‘Why do you want to know my name?’ the man replied. Then he blessed Jacob there. Jacob named the place Peniel (which means ‘face of God’), for he said, ‘I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been spared.’ The sun was rising as Jacob left Peniel, and he was limping because of the injury to his hip.”

    Jacob was known for his deception, striving, and fear, but the pain of wrestling with God became the crucible in which his identity was reshaped. Somehow, by wrestling with God in his pain and darkness instead of rejecting Him, Jacob experienced a profound transformation of his identity. In the ancient Near Eastern world, a name was believed to reflect a person’s inner nature, so changing a name symbolized a profound transformation. The name Jacob means “deceiver,” but through his wrestling with God, his name was changed to Israel, meaning “one who wrestles with God.” His identity shifted from a self-reliant deceiver to someone transformed through struggle and now surrendered to God.

    This illustrates a powerful truth: the secret of victory is losing the right battle. Wrestling with God through pain, instead of rejecting Him for not removing it from your life, has the potential to reshape who we are in a redemptive way. Jacobs become Israels; servants become saviors.

    Jesus didn’t mope in defeat because of the scars telling his story of unfair suffering. Instead, those scars were used for the redemptive purpose of building faith in others. After wrestling with God, Jacob not only received a new name and a blessing, but he also had a limp. Just as Jesus carried scars in his hands as a sign of victory, Jacob walked with a limp in his leg as a sign of blessing. Both experienced new beginnings out of painful seasons of suffering, all while wrestling with God in the process.

    So, if you’re in a season like that right now, don’t reject God; wrestle with Him in trust through seasons of suffering. And if you carry scars or a limp from some painful past suffering, don’t resent the scars you carry or the limp with which you walk.

    As Ronald Dunn concludes, speaking of Jacob emerging from his night of wrestling with God:

    “When Jacob limped away the next morning, he named the place of his dark encounter Peniel—‘It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.’ He could have named the spot ‘The Place of Struggle’ or ‘The Place of Pain’ or something similar—and it would have been correct, for so it was. Sometimes we do give our times of wrestling names like that—which, I guess, says a lot about us. We can only call those dark encounters Peniel (‘It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared’) when we realise that faith is: the wisdom to see treasure in trash, the courage to face things as they are, not as we wish them to be, the boldness to embrace those things and say, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me,’ making our greatest weakness our greatest strength.”

    Reflective Questions:

    1. How has a past “ending” or painful season in your life ultimately led to a “new beginning” or unexpected growth, even if it wasn’t immediately apparent at the time?
    2. In what ways have you experienced wrestling with God during a time of suffering? What does “wrestling with God in trust” look like for you in your current circumstances?
    3. Consider the scars or “limps” you carry from past pain. How might God be inviting you to view these marks not as symbols of defeat, but as evidence of His redemptive work or even as a source of hope for others?
    4. Jesus was “made perfect through suffering,” and Jacob’s identity was reshaped through struggle. What aspects of your character or faith do you believe God is seeking to refine or transform through your current challenges?
    5. What is one practical step you can take this week to lean into trust and wrestle with God, rather than rejecting Him, in the midst of any pain or uncertainty you are facing?

    Closing Prayer:

    Heavenly Father, we come before You with open hearts, acknowledging the reality of pain and suffering in our lives. We confess that at times, we are tempted to reject You when faced with hardship, questioning Your presence and purpose. Forgive us for our doubts and our desire for perfection through ease. We thank You for the profound examples of Jesus and Jacob, who show us that wrestling with You in our pain is not a sign of weakness, but a pathway to deeper faith and transformation.

    Lord, help us to embrace the redemptive pathways in our suffering. When we carry scars, may they become testimonies of Your healing power. When we walk with a limp, may it be a sign of Your blessing and the reshaping of our identity. Grant us the wisdom to see treasure in our trials, the courage to face things as they are, and the boldness to hold onto You, saying, “I will not let You go unless You bless me.” May our greatest weaknesses become our greatest strengths in Your hands. Guide us into the new beginnings You have prepared, even when we cannot yet see them. We trust in Your unfailing love and Your perfect plan. Amen.

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