When it comes to suffering or living with hardship things can get kind of complicated. When tragedy strikes unexpectedly. When there is no crime yet a punishment is inflicted. When the young feel old. When the hurt isn’t healing. What about prayer? What about Faith? What about “Be healed in the name of Jesus?”

Pain sucks. Heartache blows. Hopelessness, fear, and inner chaos is hell. 

And you know what? It’s ok to sit in that. 

It is not sin to suffer. 

It is NOT a sin to suffer.

There is One who understands the inner workings of your heart and mind. There is One who loves with a tender and complete love. There is One who weeps with those who weep. There is One who seeks the weary. There is One who knows the pain to infinite depths. He is the One who sees every evil act and every collapsing “should have been.” Is He Himself not well acquainted with grief? Is He not well aquainted with the pain of not-yet?

And He is the same one who delivers. He is the same one who acts. The One who chooses the moment to redeem. Who orchestrates freedom. He is the God who rises up and uses His power to heal the sick, bind up the brokenhearted, and set free the ones who are captive. There is One who is known to lead his people into victory. 

But the turning point is not up to us. We are not the authors of the story. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for. (Heb 11:1) Faith is not snatching the pen from the author or forcing His hand. We may sit in hardship, we may weep with a heavy heart, and we may pour out our questions, with no shame and still full of faith. We can hold in tension our hope for change and our trust in the One who brings it. We can make accommodations within our homes and hope that tomorrow will bring more physical stamina. We may pause in the hurt we feel and let it sink in while hoping for reconciliation. We can seek care and hope that one day we will be able to care for others. We can pray, and pray again. We can bring our requests to Him with conviction, hoping that today is the day that He will act. But we do not get to decide whether it is a hug or a healing. We do not get to decide if it is peace or change that He bestows. We may knock on His door for the thousandth time to bring Him our petition, but the moment of justice is still in His hands. 

How much more fervently a prayer will yield ‘results’? How much more striving? How much more shame must I heap onto myself in response to the simple fact that I am still hurting? 

Must I hide the fact that my prayers look more like, “Lord, I am weary,” than, “Self, rise up and walk”? Do you judge me, Lord? 

Are you the God who sees me? Are you the God who is a loving Father? The One I can sit with in silence? The One who does not wag His finger but rather scoops me up and holds me? Am I so bold as to pull away from Your hand to tell You how this moment ought to be different? 

I trust You. 

Teach me. Strip away the lies I believe, and give me instead the truth. I do not even know all that is broken, yet I am asking you to restore it. Piece by piece. Align my heart with Yours. By one degree and the next, lead me to the place of Your perspective. Lead me to the place of abiding. For even just a moment, open my eyes to see the searing reality of Your truth and the objective weight of Your glory. Teach me to rejoice in trial, and Lord, teach me to lament. 

All for Your glory.