Where is God in My Suffering?

Written By Stephanie Wittek

You know those conversations you have with God where you’re on the floor of your bedroom, halfway through a box of snotty tissues, asking Him… ‘Why?’ over and over again?

“Why is this happening? Why?”

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore.” (Very reminiscent of Elena Gilbert in that one scene of the Vampire Diaries.)

“Why aren’t you doing anything?”

“Please just make this stop.”

I’ve been through some difficult things in my life… but living through a decade of complex chronic illness felt like graduating from high school to college courses at the school of suffering.

In just 1 year of my journey with chronic illness:

  • I spent a month in and out of the hospital unable to keep any foods down (my husband and I mentally prepared for me to be on a feeding port, which thankfully never came to fruition)

  • I spent 4 months preparing to travel 6 hours away from home for surgery to diagnose and excise endometriosis (while discovering post surgery I had another rare disease we didn’t expect and my body was pre-cancerous)

  • My husband and I discovered we were living in health-altering levels of mold and we made the decision to move and get rid of most of our belongings

By the time we had found out about the mold, I was done.

Hit after hit after hit, I felt like a fighter in the ring who was getting pummeled and I desperately wanted to tap out.

I didn’t care that God was always with me. And I really didn’t care if my suffering had a purpose or not.

If anything, these platitudes people use to encourage you during seasons of difficulty just added insult to injury.

Knowing God was always with me stung because that meant He was watching me suffer and not doing anything about it. How could the God who created me, who loves me more than I can even comprehend, who calls me His child… how could He let me take hit after hit? How could He watch me, bruised and bloodied in the ring, and not call a foul?

The God I had known and experienced up to this point in my life had shown himself to be a rescuer, a savior, and a help to me in times of trouble. That’s not to say my life had been easy, but I had often felt God’s guidance, presence, and evidence of Him at work during seasons of hardship.

In this moment, though?

Crickets.

My faith started to shake as I questioned whether God really cared about me like He said He did. I struggled to know what part of God to hold on to. What promises could I believe? What would bring me comfort in my dark night of the soul? How was I supposed to deal with my grief and pain that felt so overwhelming?

My burdened heart needed the answers to these questions.

Making Sense of Things That Don’t Make Sense

The human brain is really good at looking for patterns.

Our brains are constantly scanning our environment to determine where we are in space and time. Our brain’s biology is all about drawing on our past experiences to predict our future ones. It’s how we understand our world and our relationship to the world.

We are hard wired to try to make sense of things.

So, when we suffer, it is natural to try to make sense of it.

Kristen LaValley (2024), author of Even If He Doesn’t, describes this experience well when she says:

“We want our pain to count for something. We can’t imagine a world in which a good and kind Creator would let us suffer for nothing. So we take our pain and dissect it and dig through the layers of dirt to try to extract some sort of design from it.

Maybe he’s trying to teach me patience. Maybe he’s trying to teach me grace. Maybe he’s allowing me to go through this so I can teach someone else. We search endlessly for meaning, because how could a good God waste our pain?”

What if, though, trying to make sense of things is simply a distraction? What if the trying to “figure it out” and intellectualizing is keeping us stuck in a loop of suffering?

What if the desire to just “know” is keeping us from actually experiencing our difficult emotions?

What if it’s keeping us from being honest with ourselves and with God?

In a post fallen world, there is sin and there is suffering (Genesis 3). There is illness. Bad things happen. I’m not attempting to dive into why those things happen today (I’ll leave that to professional philosophers and theologians), but instead to suggest that there doesn’t need to be a reason for our suffering. There isn’t always a grand purpose. Despite what the prosperity gospel says, you’re not living in sin just because you are chronically ill or suffering in some way. Sometimes… this is just the devastating reality of living on this side of heaven.

Sometimes… things just won’t make sense.

(See John 16:33, Romans 5:3-4, Romans 8:18, Psalm 34:19)

Thankfully, the story of God did not end after the fall.

As soon as Adam and Eve confess that they’ve sinned, God foreshadows the coming of Jesus (Gen 3:15). God knows that sin has now entered the picture and He knows it isn’t good for us. He knows death, destruction, and separation from Him are to follow. And He knows this was never His design for His people.

God, in His infinite love for us, refuses to end the story here. He continually shows up for His people, advocating for them, and creates a way for them to commune with Himself. He gives Moses incredibly detailed instructions (starting in Exodus 35) to build a tabernacle just so He can dwell among them and be in relationship with them until the time Jesus would come. Even when people do make poor choices that are deliberately destructive to God and each other (sin), He continues to pursue His people with love, patience, and grace. Can you comprehend being this loved? (The gospel is something else that can be hard to make logical sense of! Thankfully, we don’t have to “know” everything to accept Christ and follow Him.)

This God, so full of love and devotion to His people sends His Son, Jesus, to end our separation. To end the consequences of sin in the world. He willingly suffers the ultimate suffering to atone for the sin that must be paid (because God cannot be anything other than perfectly good and just and there must be consequences when there are wrongs) so that suffering is not the end of our story.

Suffering will never make sense because it was never a part of God’s plan.

But thanks to Jesus, we know that suffering has an expiration date. 1 John 3:2 tells us that for those of us that are children of God there will be a day “we shall be like Him [Jesus]”. We will be perfect as He is perfect.

Revelation 21:4 tells us there will be a day there is no more death, suffering, mourning, crying, or pain.

In the time between now and when that day comes, we can take heart knowing that God made it so that we are not stuck in an eternal story of suffering.

God made a way for us to be in relationship with Him, so we may never be separated from Him again, in a place where there is never suffering… ever again.

What an incredible truth we can grip onto in the throes of our hardships.

What a solid thing we can cling to when nothing else makes sense.

Jesus Weeps

Most of us that call ourselves followers of Christ know we have these promises we can cling to.

We know that one day we will be in His perfect presence where there is no more pain and suffering, but in the meantime, we have to find a way to survive experiences with death, loss, illness, injustice, pain, & suffering.

Eternal promises don’t take away the weight and reality of our present suffering.

When you’re living through a harsh season of suffering, you still have to show up every day. You have to walk into spaces and encounter people who look like walking Instagram highlight reels while it feels like there’s a couple of dumbbells sitting on your chest and it’s taking everything you’ve got to just show up and not break down and cry.

How do we carry on when our hearts feel like they can’t carry anything else?

What example does God give us to follow during these seasons of our lives?

John 11:35: Jesus wept.

This is the shortest, but one of the most impactful verses in all of Scripture.

We don’t know exactly why Jesus weeps here. John 11:33 tells us “he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” as He sees Mary weeping over the death of her brother Lazarus (who Jesus resurrects shortly after this encounter).

The question most of us ask when we read this scripture is: If Jesus was just going to resurrect Lazarus, why does He take the time here to weep?

Why does John, the author, take the time to document this particular moment among the numerous things Jesus did with His time on earth?

This is a significant detail.

While we don’t know exactly why Jesus wept, it is safe to assume at least a part of the reason He wept was because He was moved by the grief and tears of Martha and Mary.

Jesus knew that He was there to bring Lazarus back to life and that this would take away Martha and Mary’s pain, but He still took time to share in their grief with them. He honored their grief.

Why?

Because He is a compassionate God.

And His compassion is borne out of His love for us.

This can be hard for some of us to understand that have never experienced love like this. Deep down, some of us perceive God to be black and white. Transactional. Formulaic, even.

“If I do _____, then God will _______.”

But this is flawed theology.

This is doctrine that elevates the role of man and diminishes the role of God (Wilkin, 2023).

God does not need you and I to do or be anything. Nothing depends on us. The world will keep spinning regardless of our actions. God does not owe us anything because we’ve chosen to follow Him. He alone is the Creator and sustainer of the universe.

He created us and partners with us purely out of His love for us.

While it is good to want to please our Father, we need to remember that we are not primarily vessels or tools to be used by God, we are first and foremost deeply loved by Him.

God loves you so much that He cares about your pain. He cares about your grief. He hurts when you hurt. There are several times in Scripture God mentions that He “sees” His people’s tears. He is moved by our grief. And He acts in response to it (Guzik, 2022).

As Christians, we know the spirit of God lives in us (Romans 8:9, 1 Cor 6:19). We know we’re never alone. God is always with us.

Sometimes, we just need to separate from our pain long enough to be reminded of the reality of His love for us. To rest assured that this is not His “end game” for us. To know He doesn’t take pleasure in our suffering because He loves us. He knows very personally what it means to suffer and has experienced the full range of human emotions that comes with that.

Because a funny thing happens when we’re reminded of just how much God actually loves us.

We begin to see things differently.

One of the most restorative prayers I have ever prayed is “God, show me what is true.” It was one of the prayers I blurted out deep in my season of grief when I wasn’t sure what to hold onto to get through each day.

I joke now that this is one of those prayers with express 2-day shipping. If you’re earnestly seeking truth, trust me, God will show it to you!

Shortly after praying this prayer, as I wrestled through my grief and my faith, I started to picture some of the darkest moments of my life. You know the ones… the times where you felt the most alone, most helpless, and most abandoned by God.

As I thought back to these scenes, begging God to help me see and believe whatever was true, I realized that all the times I thought I had been abandoned… God had actually been right with me the whole time. I just couldn’t see him then.

I’m not really a “vision” person, but on this day I had a clear image come to the forefront of my mind. I could clearly visualize and see where Jesus was in the room as I revisited some of the moments that had become strongholds over my life.

I could see Him watching me with tears in His eyes. I could see Him watching His precious child hurting and hurting with me. I could see Him right in front of me, offering His compassionate presence. I could see Him placing His hand on my shoulder. I could see grace written on His face as I expressed my frustration with Him, like a parent gives to an exhausted toddler. I could see Him whispering in my surgeon's ear to calmly hold my hand as I was frightened in an operating room. And I could see Him patiently waiting for me to just look up and see Him there, knowing I wouldn't until years later.

I followed Jesus’ suit and wept as I realized just how much I had misunderstood God and His love for me. It was overwhelming to realize the God I thought to be cold and indifferent towards my suffering was completely heartbroken and fully in it with me.

It is normal, friend, for our confidence in God to feel shaken when we’re feeling extra fragile, but it is even more important during these moments to remember who God is and what He has done. It is important to hold onto the things we know to be true of God and assume the best of Him as we want others to do for us.

And in the moments it all just feels like too much?

We follow Jesus’ example. We accept his invitation to lament.

An Invitation to Lament

I’ve had a relationship with God ever since I can remember being alive.

I have journals I’ve kept that house earnest prayers from my 7-year-old self in them.

It was easy to express how I felt back then. As a child, you tend to be more honest with yourself and with others… and God is no exception. I read my journals back whenever I end up decluttering every few years and laugh at how melodramatic my younger self was. While I may be somewhat embarrassed to read those older entries, I’m also incredibly proud of little Stephanie’s courage to be fully honest with her feelings.

As we get older, something changes in us.

We struggle to be as honest with ourselves and with others, especially when disappointment comes.

“This guy I thought I would marry broke up with me, but it’s okay because he wasn’t the one for me.”

“I found out I have an autoimmune disease, but it’s going to be okay. God will use this for good.”

“I was let go from my job, but God probably didn’t want me there, so He’ll bring me to a new one.”

We begin to tell ourselves stories about how we should be feeling (or what we should be doing) instead of actually feeling and experiencing our emotions.

And we do this to each other! We’ve lost the ability to sit with someone in a moment of grief or discomfort. In response to people’s pain, we offer false comforts:

“I know God is going to do this for you.”

“You are so strong. Your faith is so strong. God must have big plans for you!”

“God is going to be glorified in your story.”

Let me be clear: there is nothing wrong with speaking truth to yourself or someone else. There is nothing inherently wrong with encouraging and uplifting each other.

The problem lies when we spiritually bypass our (or other’s) emotions because we’re uncomfortable with grief or because we feel like our “negative” emotions are a sign we don’t trust God. God never asks us for emotional suppression. (In fact, He gives us examples of how to express our emotions in God honoring ways!)

(Remember, even though Jesus has a “solution” for Martha and Mary’s grief… He doesn’t discredit or dishonor their pain. He weeps with them! He bears witness to their pain and joins them in their grief. He allows them the space to do this without trying to change, fix, or encourage them in this moment.)

God created human beings in His image and emotions are a part of the deal for us. We can absolutely get to a place where we trust God or where we have earnest joy in less than ideal circumstances, but we can’t just say we do. We can’t force ourselves into it. We can’t skip ahead to the end result.

The only way to get to authentic trust with God is by being completely honest about our feelings… even when they’re messy.

What if I told you that sharing your grief, anger, and frustration with God wasn’t sinful, but it was actually a form of worship? What if I told you that God offers a way for us to share our feelings with Him instead of trying to pretend we aren’t upset, disappointed, grieved, and angry? What if I told you He’s just waiting for you to bring the weight you’re carrying to him instead of keeping it all inside or coping in unhealthy ways?

I have good news for you.

God invites each of us to do this by learning the lost language of lament.

To lament is to express one’s grief.

Jesus himself laments.

He weeps with Martha and Mary. He is “sorrowful and troubled” in the garden of Gethsemane. He is, understandably, full of emotion and heaviness because He knows what is coming soon (His crucifixion). And at the end of His life, He cries out a psalm of lament as He suffers on the cross.

In the Psalms, King David writes several psalms of lament, which seem bold, even to me:

“Awake! Why are you sleeping, O Lord?… Why do you forget our affliction and oppression? -Psalm 44:23-24

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” -Psalm 13:1

There is also a whole book of the bible on the subject (see Lamentations).

These examples in Scripture can give us some great places to start learning how to be earnest in experiencing and expressing our heavier emotions, though I’d highly recommend also reading through the books Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy and A Sacred Sorrow for more practical application.

In Mark Vroegop’s (2019) book Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy, Vroegop shares 3 practical things we can do as we begin to practice lament. As we approach God with our grief, he recommends we:

  1. Bring our honest complaints to God (He knows what we’re thinking anyway)

    • “God, where are you?” “God, I’m angry with you.” “God, I’m so sad this happened.” “If I can’t die, show me how to live!”

    • When we can’t form words, the Spirit intercedes for us with wordless groans

    2. Ask boldly for any needs we may have (practicing depending on God)

    • “Do something, Lord!” - Praying for a specific need

    • Cling to the character of God and ask for something you know to be true “God, stay near to me.” “Restore this, God!” “Hear me, Lord. Do not be silent.” “Let justice be done.”

    3. End our lament by choosing to trust God and His goodness, even when things don’t change or we don’t feel any different

    • Eventually, we need to move beyond complaints & request. We take the action of choosing to trust who God is. Trust His character. Trust that He is who He says He is. Trust He is good and kind, even if you are hurting. Even if you don’t understand. Choose to assume the best of Him and that His ways are Higher. He sees things you and I don’t see. And know He gave you and I the grace and freedom to have a voice - to give Him our complaints and requests. He hears them. He isn’t ignoring them. Repeat the 3 steps every day if you have to until your heart catches up to your head knowledge. Do it until it’s a core belief within you.

    • “But I trust in You, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” (Psalm 31:14)

    • “I have trusted in You.” (I know who You are even when I don’t know why this is happening.)

    • “I will sing to the Lord because He has been good to me.” (Remembering what God has done and the ways you’ve experienced Him in the past.)

(You can also listen to this podcast where he details more of the nuance of this process.)

Lament should always be honest and it should ultimately lead us to deeper trust and intimacy with God.

Grief is messy and has no timeline. We can read about it and try to follow well-thought-out methods, like what is listed above, but ultimately, it is a process we have to go through and figure out for ourselves. It's personal. We have to wrestle with God like Jacob does in Genesis 32.

When tragedy arrives in our lives, we will mourn. We will groan. We will be confused. We will plead: “God, please take this away and if you won't... please make a way through this.” 

Because the “last hour" we are living in does not make sense right now and things will deeply grieve our hearts, but when bad things happen, we can weep as we cling to the hem of Jesus's robe. 

And if, or when, you feel abandoned and you still aren't sure where God is in your suffering, just like in the Psalms, the best way to find the answer to that is to ask Him that directly.

“Why, O Lord, do you stand far away? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?" -Psalm 10:1

And if you're open to the answer... my hope and prayer for you is that God is able to show you exactly where He is in your situation in a way that speaks directly to you. I pray He heals your heart and comforts you in your pain. I pray you are willing and able to wrestle with Him, without rushing that process, and I hope you eventually emerge with a richer, deeper trust and relationship with Him than you ever thought possible. 

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28

Book Recommendations

References

Guzik, D. (2022). Study Guide for John 11 by David Guzik. Retrieved from https://www.blueletterbible.org/comm/guzik_david/study-guide/john/john-11.cfm

LaValley, K. (2024). Even if He Doesn’t: What We Believe About God When Life Doesn’t Make Sense. Tyndale Momentum, a Tyndale nonfiction imprint.

Vroegop, M. (2019). Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament. Crossway.

Wilkin, J. (2023). Abide: A Study of 1, 2, & 3 John. Week 4: The Presence of Darkness (1 John 2:18-29).

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Stephanie Wittek