Suffering.

Quite an abrasive word that carries a very heavy definition. It’s something that we seek to avoid, and yet we are asked to embrace it for the cause of Christ. The Lord, especially since converting to Catholicism, has been teaching me more about what suffering means and why we should not constantly try to avoid it, but actually come to desire it.

As humans, we just naturally want an answer for every question. It goes back to when we were toddlers and asking “Why?” constantly. We want to understand the root cause for an action. We want to get to the bottom of every question that we have and dissect every scenario until we feel satisfied enough that we understand why something has, is, or will occur…especially when it pertains to ourselves.

Job however challenges the truth of the principle that identifies suffering with punishment for sin. And he does this on the basis of his own opinion. For he is aware that he has not deserved such punishment, and in fact he speaks of the good that he has done during his life. In the end, God himself reproves Job's friends for their accusations and recognizes that Job is not guilty. His suffering is the suffering of someone who is innocent and it must be accepted as a mystery, which the individual is unable to penetrate completely by his own intelligence.

-Pope John Paul II, SALVIFICI DOLORIS, 11

When one is suffering, one desires deeply to understand why it is happening, and yet here we have Job who has this intense suffering and, as Pope John Paul II said, “it must be accepted as a mystery”. Our human brains buck against this hard because the why is never satisfied. For me, I am coming to a place of rest in the unresolved why, and the story of Job really does help. I am finding that being able to really say, “It is a mystery to me why this is going on right now,” helps me look my suffering in the eye and realize that it’s my job to seek God with all that I am and see what His purpose is through these times. 

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

-Isaiah 55: 8-9

We may never come to understand why we are experiencing some kinds of suffering, but we can always come to that place of rest in knowing that what is going on didn’t surprise God and He is meeting us in these places. Our mess does not intimidate Him. He has a plan, and in the times when we have no idea what is going on, that can be the thread of hope we can cling to.

Yes, sometimes we can do things that alleviate the suffering, but sometimes.. it just is. And it is during those times when the enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy our minds and souls. It is during those times, the enemy knows there is room for him to whisper the lie that he fed to Eve so that she would consume the fruit. The lie that said, “God is not good. He is withholding good things from you.” He desires us to consume the fruit of doubt, because he knows that the seeds from that one fruit will take root and quickly grow an orchard of unholy fear and anger toward God, which others will see and partake of. Misery loves company, as the old phrase says. 

The Lord allows suffering so that we can be made holy. From personal experience, while I was going through extremely dark times, I listened to the lies of the enemy and found myself completely unsatisfied in not receiving an answer from God Almighty as to why I was experiencing what I was having to go through. And yet, now I look back on those times and thank God with all I am that he allowed me to experience them because it truly caused me to cling to Him and realize that even though I couldn’t make things better, I could know that He had everything under control. I couldn’t see that it was under control, but realizing that there is a whole spiritual realm around us that we cannot see, and realizing that there is a constant war between good and evil going on in that realm helped me come to the place of accepting the mystery. I accepted that which I could not see, and it was walking by faith and not by sight. 

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux said in her autobiography, Story of a Soul, that she eventually came to desire suffering because of how it drew her close to Christ. How powerful is that? And, just think about the power taken away from the enemy by that way of thinking! The enemy would have us think that all suffering, no matter how minor or major, is bad. That discomfort of any kind is something to be avoided at any cost because we are supposed to feel good as much as we can. That if God is good, then He should shield us from sorrow and pain. However, the enemy can only lie and try to get us to eat the fruit that will surely kill us. In these cases, this fruit will kill our spirit and lead us into a place of darkness. 

Humility is another thing that comes into play when suffering is on the table. One day, I had a lightbulb moment. It was a simple thought, but the impact it had on my mind was significant. We were born into this fallen world and have very fallible bodies. The Saints often suffered various illnesses or were martyred, and yet, they embraced their crosses because they knew it was drawing them deeper to holiness and to our Lord. If they experienced these trials, why would I ever think I should be immune to them? That is a humbling thought. I must decrease so that He must increase. If Christ Himself suffered immensely, how can I look at suffering and say that I will never allow it to come to me? We live in a culture that desires comfort above all else. We don’t want inconvenience or pain. We have been trained to seek self-preservation above all: if you’re good, it’s all good. And how sad it has made us as a people because when it’s not “all good”, we withdraw further into our shells, seeing no way out.

Another dear Saint, Saint Faustina, penned in her diary:

“O my Jesus, despite the deep night that is all around me and the dark clouds which hide the horizon, I know that the sun never goes out. O Lord, though I cannot comprehend You and do not understand Your ways, I nonetheless trust in Your mercy. If it is Your will, Lord, that I live always in such darkness, may You be blessed. I ask You only one thing, Jesus: do not allow me to offend You in any way. O my Jesus, You alone know the longings and suffering of my heart. I am glad I can suffer for you, however little.”

-St. Faustina’s Diary, par. 73

But what if we thought about suffering like Saint Thérèse and Saint Faustina? Seeing every moment of suffering as an opportunity to rejoice because we have a time to be able to really enter into the sufferings of Christ. We have a reason to press in deeper into His presence, because suffering really makes one aware of just how much we are in need of our Savior. It reminds us that we cannot do it alone. We cannot bear the burdens alone, and it reminds us that we don’t have to, if we let it.

We can literally become joyful in the midst of extreme sorrow and be filled with the peace of Christ as we carry our cross. We can see the joy set before us as we are transformed by these present trials, knowing that they are nothing compared to the glory ahead (Rom 8:18). When we realize that no matter how we feel, the Lord is present and has not changed, nor will He ever change, the enemy’s ability to shout in triumph over us is taken away. We turn our struggle into our victory. Just as Jesus rose to victory through His death, so can we rise to victory through the death of our flesh and embracing our cross before us.

The phrase “if you are going through hell, keep going” comes to mind, but in a different way upon reflecting on the words of the Saints. Seeing suffering as a way that helps you turn to the Lord and know that you must have Him to sustain you through it, and instead of wishing and pining for it to just go away, you lean into the opportunity to allow it to transform you. When suffering comes, it is difficult, and it looks different for each one of us. What one person considers suffering may not look like another’s. For example, I have struggled with deep depression to the point of planning suicide. I would feel numb and as if every ounce of color had drained from the world around me. But then, one day, God spoke to my heart and reminded me that my name is not “Depression”, but “Beloved”, and everything changed. And He caused me to see that if we allow, God can redeem even the crippling depression and anxiety, and seeing depression through the lens of joyfully suffering takes away the power the enemy would use against us through the depression. It is remarkable how He can take our ashes and turn them into beauty. 

So, friend, please be encouraged by the words of Saint Thérèse and Saint Faustina. I pray that we are able to remember them the next time we are faced with a trial that weighs heavy on our heart, mind, or body. I pray that we may find peace in these times that are sure to come, and that we may all may carry our crosses with a gladness that the world cannot comprehend because our joy and peace are drawn from a deeper well.

Rejoice and do not let the enemy shout in triumph over you. The battle has been won.