“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, 3 for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.”
James 1:2-3, ESV
“There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with a great purpose.”
“All joy,” (verse 2) is a fantastic thought. It stresses a joy that becomes militant, something powerful and significant. “All joy,” surpasses “some joy” or even “occasional joy.” Instead it’s a joy that remains joy even when tired and weak. It will only shine brighter in the darkness.
Jewels, diamonds, and pearls are typically displayed on a black background.
This reveals their brilliance and value. In the same way darkness should only encourage us to be deliberately brighter than our surroundings. We must understand that we shine only because He makes us shine. There is a divine incandescence that awaits every believer who feels the need or desire for more of God.
God’s special nearness is available to each believer, especially those in the heat of the furnace. He is close to those who want Him, and there is nothing will stand in His way. The Lord cherishes and treasures the seeking heart. There is nothing that can detour the believer’s yearning after their Father. Your faith must be purified, and this is never optional.
Name your trial, then turn it to God in prayer.
Leave it alone and refuse to carry it no further. It’s now the Lord’s concern. Simply watch for the deliverance to come. When God sees your heart, He will lavish Himself out on you. He delights to see your faith becoming solid and real.
Trust Him.
“God, who foresaw your tribulation, has specially armed you to go through it, not without pain but without stain.”
It’s easy to romanticize physical suffering — especially when you’re not the one experiencing it.
Saints like Amy Carmichael, who spent over twenty years bedridden, and Joni Eareckson Tada, a quadriplegic who lives in constant pain, can evoke peaceful images of unbroken communion with God. We may imagine that it’s easier for them to endure pain and weakness than it is for the rest of us.
Yet the reality of physical suffering is that it’s insistent and intrusive. No one gets used to it. Pain demands our attention. Time slows to a crawl, particularly in the middle of the night, when we’re begging God for the relief of sleep. We feel alone and isolated. No one else can enter the prison that our bodies have become.
Pain Accumulates
If that weren’t enough, physical pain rarely exists in isolation — it’s usually accompanied by loss, weakness, and dependence. Often, we require help with basic daily needs, and we worry about the burden we’re putting on others. We second-guess every request, not wanting to bother someone one more time. Will people get tired and think we’re “too much”? Do they resent their lack of freedom?
We longingly remember the carefree days before our physical struggles altered our lives, when we could do what we wanted. Now we measure our energy in teaspoons rather than buckets. We weigh every decision, every action. Saying yes to one activity means saying no to many others. It is hard not to envy those with fit bodies, who seem to have no cares.
Pain, loneliness, and longing can give way to depression and despair. We cry out to the Lord for relief, but relief doesn’t come. The cancer spreads. Sleep eludes us. The pain intensifies. The medicine stops working. The side effects multiply. Our caregivers grow weary. Our friends stop checking in. Our resources run dry.
Doubt Advances
The vibrant faith we once had begins to fade — which is exactly what Satan wants to happen as we suffer. He wants us to doubt and fall away from God, convinced that he is indifferent to our cries. Satan knows that we’re susceptible to discouragement when we’re physically depleted, so that’s when he attacks. As physical needs scream for attention, Satan whispers to us, “Does God even hear you, let alone really care for you? If he does, why isn’t he delivering you?”
“If God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance.”
Insidious doubts slip in, making us question beliefs we once held rock-solid: Are we deeply loved by an all-powerful Father? As soon as we recognize the mental shift, we need to stop and cry out to God, asking him to meet us in our sorrow, to deliver us from our pain, and to show us evidence of his goodness and love. Are we fixating on all that we’ve lost, on how God hasn’t delivered us, on how hopeless we feel? Or do we recognize that God is with us, working for our good, and caring for us each moment?
What we think about in the moments of our deepest pain is critical. Our mindset will determine how we approach the questions that bombard us. Here are three common questions I’ve asked:
How can God be “for me” if I’m still suffering?
How can God use my weakness for good?
What good can come in moments of overwhelming pain?
How can God be ‘for me’ if I’m still suffering?
Sometimes God miraculously delivers us when we plead for relief, like at the parting of the Red Sea. Other times he sustains us, as he did with manna in the wilderness. The Red Sea deliverance freed the Israelites, but their need for manna kept them dependent on God. In gathering manna, they had a harder time forgetting their reliance on God. And if God’s greatest blessing is himself, then perhaps sustenance is a more precious gift than deliverance, since it can keep us in constant communion with him.
Take the apostle Paul. He begged God for deliverance from his thorn in the flesh, but instead he received grace — grace to bear the thorn, grace to be content with weakness, grace that would carry him through other trials as well (2 Corinthians 12:7–10).
When we realize that we can depend on God in our weakness, we learn to trust him in everything. Anyone can thank God for quick deliverance from physical suffering, but we often forget him until the next crisis. Yet when he sustains us in our pain, we’re confident that he is with us always.
How can God use my physical weakness for good?
We may think our physical weakness is keeping us from maximum fruitfulness, but that’s impossible. Our weaknesses are a part of God’s plan for our lives; they are intertwined with our calling. Paul thought his thorn was hampering his ministry, but God knew that it was the key to his strength: it forced Paul to be wholly dependent on God. When we are depleted and exhausted, lacking any resources of our own — it is then that we fully rely on God.
And in that reliance, we discover the power of God flowing through us — the same power that raised Jesus from the dead (Ephesians 1:19–20). This power keeps us enduring when we want to give up; it showcases God’s glory and brings lasting change. Because Paul relied on God’s provision, he accomplished more for the kingdom with his thorn than he could have without it. His greatest strength lay in his submission to Christ.
Even Jesus’s greatest strength appeared in his greatest physical weakness.
Throughout his ministry, Jesus impacted others by his actions. He calmed the storm with a word. He fed five thousand with a few loaves and fish. He cast out demons, healed the sick, and raised the dead. He turned the world upside down.
But at the end of his ministry, from the Last Supper on, Jesus allowed others to act upon him: he was led away, he was whipped and mocked, he was beaten and crucified. When he submitted to his captors, the crowds saw weakness rather than what was really there: Jesus’s strength and power.
Just before these horrific events, Jesus begged God to take the cup of suffering from him. But it was through Christ’s submission to the will of the Father — to torture and humiliation, to physical abuse and carrying his own cross — that God brought about the most astonishing display of his power and grace.
The issues we face can be formidable. Our relationships and our circumstances can bring daunting obstacles to joyful Christlike living. We live out at times from unpleasant realities and less than ideal situations. We are broken believers who follow Jesus through our deadly minefields.
Struggling with mental illness is just as much a challenge as with any other handicap. The young man struggling with bipolar disorder or someone else who faces a clinical depression, may seem to be tangled up in something quite brutal and very hopeless. “Will I ever find normal again?“
I know that struggle and at times it has ripped me apart. But I suppose the grinding hopelessness is the worst part of that.
I want to encourage you in this. The issues we face on a daily basis are hard. And we don’t minimize their complexity or diminish their bitterness. They can be awful. But the Holy Spirit is with you in the midst of your issues. That’s a promise.
There is a wisdom emanating from the fire. It’s only waiting for discovery. The flames can not destroy us when God shows up.
I believe that the constant presence of difficulty produces a faith and tenderness that can’t be just prayed for.
The most kind and gentle people are those who themselves have been afflicted.
Please understand we have a real challenge. We have to walk through the trials or tests, not around them. We see a mountain, and God gives us a shovel. But He also gives us the strength we need.
But I’ve discovered a tenuous joy in these issues— more precisely, a joy because of them. Our illness is not meant to destroy us. That is not why God has allowed you to be afflicted.
I definitely did not choose this path I’m on.
Think about Jesus’ great love for people with hard issues:
“In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight.”
Luke 7:21
Jesus has special spot for the afflicted, we see him repeated touching them. He drew them like a magnet draws iron. And he is the same today in our time. It is comforting to know that he cares for us and that we are understood. Let him draw you into his caring presence.
Our disabilities do not trouble him. Yes, I know the issues are formidable. But your obedience in them is an exquisitely special commodity to Jesus. I believe He values the shaking faith of broken people far more than the happy shiny people with no pain or scars.
Faith is precious in his sight and holds its value for all eternity.
Understanding this should be a cause for joy for the broken believer. Having the lightness of heart, right in the middle of our disability, often transforms these issues into a lighter burden. “We are beaten but not totaled. Incredibly challenged but not completely devastated.“ The apostle wrote this in his letter to the Corinthians, and it gives us hope.
I have learned that if I can bless a difficult thing it will bless me.
If we curse it and it will curse us. If you bless a situation, it has no power to hurt you, and even if it is troublesome for a time, it will gradually fade out, but only you can only sincerely bless it.
There’s a deep joy waiting for those who choose to do this.
“For I am ready to fall, and my pain is ever before me.”
Psalm 38:17
Over 85 million Americans live in chronic pain. That’s amazing. Maybe you’re one of them and maybe you just want to understand — perhaps you have a friend or family member who is hurting. They’re facing their dragon and that can be a challenge.
Pain can be constant, or, it can be intermittent. It shows up unpredictably. One never knows when. But believe me, it is terribly real, even if it’s not continual. I look at my dragon in the eye far too often. Way too often.
There are different kinds and various levels to it. Healthcare people often use the Numerical Rating Scale (NRS). Pain is ranked by numbers between 1-10, the higher the number the greater the pain.
Christians are part of that 85 million. We’re not immune just because we believe in Jesus. Some of us will hurt.
Coping with Chronic Pain
Learn all you can about your particular issue. I’m constantly looking and hopefully learning all I can, I want to be an expert. Research things. Google and Wikipedia can be deep reservoirs of knowledge.
Learn how to worship and pray in a brand new way. Things have changed now and seeking Him becomes a challenge, and, it can be easier.
Insomnia
Depression or anxiety, or both.
Fatigue, or stress.
Mood swings.
Doctors and meds.
Advice to Caregivers
I have to warn you, severe pain can make your dear one irrational. Pain can get so intense that you will find it impossible to relate to the sufferer. I once had a fierce battle with Complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS) in both forearms. Most doctors rate this as one of the worst types of pain to have.
Morphine didn’t help. Lynnie (my wife) could only watch and pray as the dragon kept attacking me, over and over. She watched me writhe in pain and she was pretty much helpless.
I was very angry, wildly rude and terribly mean. I was frustrated because I couldn’t communicate how bad the pain was. Over and over I tried to share how I was feeling, but words were not enough.
Some advance the idea that you need to find enough faith to be healed, but what about having enough faith to live in constant pain?
Broken Believers 