Suffering

““There is an ancient tribal proverb I once heard in India. It says that before we can see properly, we must first shed our tears to clear the way.” ”

— Libba Bray

This blog has been challenging to write and has taken weeks to finish because I am in the midst of its lesson. This is a lesson I will continue to learn on this side of heaven. Heartbreaking, soul-crushing, lonely, painful suffering that comes in waves.

Suffering is inevitable, and pain is a part of life. Every human life starts traumatically; birth itself is an excruciating and emotional process for both mother and child. Why is it so hard to do well if suffering is so common? We follow a God who sacrificed his only son to a death he didn’t deserve, to be tortured, mocked, humiliated, and utterly alone. Couldn’t there have been another way? Couldn’t God have shown his power and deity through the means of something less gruesome? Yet, God knows the beginning and the end all at once. He could see his death and the world's salvation simultaneously. While Jesus took his last breath on earth, he took his first in heaven. One sorrowful breath out, one hopeful breath in. Death and resurrection are a package deal. Suffering is the breath between where we are now and where we want to be. It is the wrestling with what we think we deserve and what life brutally throws at us. I think we can all agree that Jesus didn’t deserve the death he received. However, in his death, we have the choice to live. In this way, death brings life. As I have been on a journey through my suffering, I hope to learn how to suffer well. The cycle of life includes death, literally and figuratively. There is no escaping it. 

Could God get me to learn the lessons of suffering less painfully? I don’t think so. As much as I want to change that answer to yes, I genuinely don’t think so. Suffering has taught me much more than that. It has taught me how to see clearly. Trauma has taught me to feel every emotion. Pain has taught me how to rest. Loss has taught me to be present. Tears have shown me how to cleanse the deepest parts of myself. Betrayal has taught me how to trust. Abuse has taught me how to be strong. And all have brought me closer to God. Through this, I have developed into a woman who can empathize and feel the cry inside of someone without seeing any tears. Suffering has given me open eyes and listening ears to hear words unspoken. More than that, it has drawn me closer to my creator in my quest to answer this recurring question. 

Why do we suffer? 

A question we all hope to outrun yet inevitably encounter. The answer lies in the faces God allows me to encourage, pray for, and help guide in healing. Suffering is what speaks; it is what has power. Not because it brought us down but because it brought us to the only one who defeated the utter darkness and the sting suffering brings. It is only through suffering that I have something to say. Do I wish I didn’t have to go through some of the pain? Absolutely. I will never understand why someone chose to abuse me at seven years old and why God allowed it to happen. But I can now choose to let that pain inspire me to understand and be determined to be there for someone going through the same thing. I can be the voice of light and love I never had. It is a choice, a hard choice to make. One that kept me stuck and angry for a long time. Let this be a reminder to go to God in your suffering. Go to him mad, confused, heartbroken, and afraid. The prayers that set me free are the ones I wouldn’t allow my children to hear. They’re honest and raw, full of emotion and, at times, hatred. Here is a snippet of a journal entry I wrote during one of the darkest seasons of my life. 

God, God, why have you forsaken me?
A line your Son used when you turned your back on him. 
For what?
The greater good?
Why must I suffer the pain of someone else's choices? 
You knew humanity would be ruthless and pure evil. 
Why would you create such darkness?
You have a part to play in choices, too. 
You chose to look away. 
You chose not to intervene. 
What did I do in my short seven years to deserve an experience that would haunt me for the rest of my life?
Are you even real?

There are more graphic details that I will leave out, but my heart is clear—Distraught. And guess what? Nothing happened after this. I sat in this emotion and grieved my childhood for years. From this one experience, this one memory. Much has happened since I was seven; that would be even worse. But this was the tragic start. I still don’t fully understand the why behind this smudge of darkness in my life timeline. But I do know whenever I share this story, I see eyes light up and hear hearts that whisper, “Me too.”

But God is good. This truth has been written on my heart since well before that sad day in my history. My understanding has nothing to do with the goodness of God. My understanding ebbs and flows, but His goodness is fact. Much of faith is believing without seeing; it is trusting in the facts of God without always seeing fruit in reality. The fruit will come; it's just growing. 

In Luke, when Jesus was resurrected and seen again for the first time, he found himself on a road with two men who were incredibly sad. They were distraught that it was the third day, and Jesus did not return to life. Little did they know they were talking to him. Our suffering often blocks our vision, but God wants it to enable it. “Was it unnecessary that Christ suffer these things and enter into his glory?” (Luke 24:26) Through his suffering, he entered into glory; suffering carries purpose. It may not feel like glory in the midst of it, but I promise you, glory will fill your cup. 

If you made it this far, thank you. It is reassuring that writing these words does not reopen wounds for me. I am not bleeding out, and that is only possible because of the tender, compassionate touch of an in-tune, close, and redemptive God. 

You are never alone.

Live Loved, 
Jaimee 

Song Recommendation: What a God by SEU Worship