God In the Midst of Suffering

April 17, 2025

It's important to recognize that life isn't the way it was meant to be. Ever since sin entered the world in the Garden of Eden, everything has been affected. This world is broken. C.S. Lewis once wrote, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.” The apostle Paul echoed this truth in his letter to the church in Corinth:

For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed instead with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. Now the one who has fashioned us for this very purpose is God, who has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. Therefore, we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:1-6)

The writer of Hebrews states, "For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Hebrews 13:14).

Many people wonder why, during our time on earth, God allows so much suffering. Relationships fall apart, loved ones are lost, diseases spread, and hatred shows up in all its forms—racism, violence, injustice. Every day, we hear of war, poverty, and human trafficking. It's natural to ask: Why would a good God allow such pain to continue?

To begin understanding this, we must remember that God has given us the gift of free will. In Revelation 3:20, Jesus says, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” He doesn’t force His way in—He waits to be invited. Love, to be real, must be chosen. God didn’t create puppets; He created people with the freedom to choose Him—or not.

But with that freedom comes the possibility of sin. And sadly, people often choose selfishness, greed, and hatred. These choices ripple outward, causing harm to others, to creation, and even to ourselves.

Yet, even in the brokenness, God is not distant. As Philip Yancey beautifully puts it, “God is deeply pained by the state of this broken world.” He grieves with us. His heart breaks for the suffering we endure. And through Jesus, He stepped into our pain to offer hope, healing, and a way home.

Peter reminds us that God is not finished—not with us and not with this world. He is still at work, even amid our pain. Peter writes, “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you” (1 Peter 5:10).

Paul echoes this same promise when he says, “I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Romans 8:18). What we endure now is real—but it is not the end of the story.

In the meantime, God doesn’t waste our suffering. He uses it to draw hearts closer to Him, to shape us, and to reveal His presence in unexpected ways. As Paul encourages us, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Even in our broken world, God is weaving redemption into every thread.

C.S. Lewis once referred to pain as “the megaphone of God.” He wrote, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains… it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”

Philip Yancey, reflecting on Lewis’s insight, adds:

The word megaphone is apropos, because by its nature pain shouts. When I stub my toe or twist an ankle, pain loudly announces to my brain that something is wrong. Similarly, the existence of suffering on this earth is, I believe, a scream to all of us that something is wrong. It halts us in our tracks and forces us to consider other values.

Pain disrupts our routines. It pulls us out of our distractions and reminds us that this world is not as it should be. And often, in the stillness that suffering creates, we begin to hear God's voice more clearly.

Peter reminds us that God’s patience during this brokenness has purpose. “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead, he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).

Sometimes, suffering draws us toward that repentance. It opens our hearts to our need for God. Like the psalmist, we may cry out in desperation, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” But in those cries, God meets us.

We don’t follow a God who is distant from pain. We follow a Savior who stepped into it. Through the incarnation and the crucifixion, Jesus entered fully into the human experience—into sorrow, betrayal, grief, and death.

As the writer of Hebrews assures us: “For we do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize and understand our weaknesses and temptations, but One who has been tempted [knowing exactly how it feels to be human] in every respect as we are, yet without [committing any] sin” (Hebrews 4:15, AMP).

He knows. He understands. And He is present—right in the middle of our pain.

God has not remained distant from human anguish—He has stepped into it. Rather than standing apart from our suffering, God enters into it with us. He promises never to leave us, never to forsake us. His words in Isaiah offer deep reassurance: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze” (Isaiah 43:2).

In our most painful moments, God walks beside us. And not only that—He brings blessing from brokenness. Consider the global crisis brought on by the Coronavirus. Though the world was shaken, we also witnessed remarkable stories of hope—neighbors helping neighbors, families reconnecting, and hearts turning back to God. Light shined through the darkness.

William Barclay once wrote, “We do not need to be very old to look back and see that things we thought were disasters worked out for our good; things that we thought were disappointments worked out as greater blessings.” And it’s true. Hindsight often reveals that God was weaving redemption into even our hardest days.

There is so much we cannot understand this side of heaven—so many questions about suffering, injustice, and the mystery of God’s ways. But one thing remains clear: God is unchanging. His love is steadfast. He has been faithful in the past, and He will be faithful again. He does not promise to remove all pain, but He does promise His presence in it.

For those who walk by faith, suffering becomes a journey: from pain to prayer, from self-pity to trust, from lament to praise. We may not fully grasp God’s purpose now, but we trust that “we are not home yet.” This world, with all its trials, is not the end of the story.

One day, as C.S. Lewis writes in The Last Battle, we will see clearly. We will realize that “All [our] life in this world and all [our] adventures…[were] only…the cover and the title page.” And finally, we’ll begin “Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read; which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”