I think one of the worst lies we’ve ever been told is that we’re all supposed to be happy, and if you really love God, you’ll always be happy. We’re exposed to that lie every day through advertising, social media, and elsewhere.
Sadly, the Church hasn’t offered much in the way of an alternative message. It seems that, at some point, we saw how advertisers were getting rich selling happiness, and the Church followed right along and became just another merchant of happiness. Maybe it was unintentional, but at some point along the way we began marketing Jesus as a product, as if he’s on par with a luxury car.
It’s like we’re boiling the gospel down to a sales pitch: German engineering is nice…but have you considered Jewish carpentry?
To be clear: I’m not suggesting God doesn’t want you to be happy. I’m simply saying that happiness isn’t your life’s purpose.
Jesus lived the most purposeful life ever, but even he wasn’t always happy, and he never promised happiness to anyone. Instead, he said things like, “You’re blessed when you’re poor. You’re blessed when you mourn. You’re blessed when you’re persecuted” (Luke 6:20-22). He said Satan is the ruler of this world for now (John 12:31), and he said being a Christian will feel like you’re carrying a cross (Luke 9:23). Out of his original twelve disciples, ten were slaughtered, one committed suicide, and one died in exile, alone.
So, when we give people the impression that their happiness is of the utmost importance to Jesus, and that if they follow Jesus faithfully, they’ll be happy, we are setting them up for disillusionment and the deconstruction of their faith. As soon as a season of suffering comes their way, they’ll be left wondering why, if God is real, He doesn’t seem to care about them and their pain.
Jesus promised us life will hurt. The point of following him isn’t to avoid getting hurt; the point is to let your scars make you stronger. The Bible lifts up a few ways this can happen.
First, pain can lead you into deeper intimacy with God.
For to suffering you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps. “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.” When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, free from sins, we might live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. For you were going astray like sheep, but now you have returned to the shepherd and guardian of your souls. – 1 Peter 2:21-25
One of the hardest seasons of my life was during the first five years of my marriage to Geovanna. We got married at 20. We were in college, and we were dead broke. Most people at our wedding assumed Geovanna was pregnant. She wasn’t. We were just stubborn and idealistic. We knew very well that marriage is hard, but we were certain it wouldn’t be hard for us.
Within a few weeks after our wedding, we were struggling. I remember sleeping on the couch quite a bit. I also remember how my perception of my wife began to change. Before we got married, whenever Geovanna walked into a room, it was like a light from heaven shone down upon her. To me, she was flawless, and she spoke with the voice of an angel.
After a few years of marriage, however, whenever she walked into the room, all I could see were the things I didn’t like about her, and instead of an angel’s voice, whenever she spoke, I could’ve sworn I heard the voice of the demon-possessed girl from The Exorcist.
(In fairness to Geo, I was no angel during that season of our marriage.)
The only time either of us ever visited a marriage therapist, he advised us to get a divorce because, in his words, “You clearly aren’t right for each other.” Staying married was one of the hardest things either of us has ever done, but I’m so glad we did. Because the place in our hearts that was carved out by our suffering during the first few years has been filled to overflowing with grace and love and understanding ever since.
The same kind of thing happens in your relationship with God. When you learn to stick with God through your season of pain, your relationship with Him goes to a deeper level. The deeper the pain, the more God will fill you with grace and love. When you trust God through the pain, He will use what you’re going through to shape you into the person you were created to be.
Second, pain can give way to new growth.
“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit.” – John 15:1-2
These were some of Jesus’ words to his disciples just hours before he was arrested. He used the image of a vine to represent his life’s mission. The first two sentences are reasonable and expected: Jesus is the vine, and the Father is the farmer. Easy-peasy.
But check out that third sentence: “Every branch that bears fruit he prunes…”
The branches that bear fruit is a clear reference to believers – faithful Christians – and to prune is to cut back. To cut something back, by definition, involves some measure of pain.
Why would God cut back the branches that are already fruitful? To make them bear more fruit. And why would God cut you back once in a while? Same answer.
The “fruit” God wants from us is what Paul called the fruit of the Spirit, it’s the stuff your life produces when you have the Holy Spirit. Galatians 5:22-23 – Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Sometimes God sends you through a hard season to prune you, to cut you back, for the purpose of making your life more fruitful.
The hardest seasons of your life can be a time for God to cut you back a little for the purpose of making new growth possible.
Third, the aftermath of your pain will present you with opportunities to witness and minister to others. In other words, pain can make you a witness.
“…but he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.” – 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
When Paul wrote these words, he was old, he was blind, he had been beaten several times. He had been imprisoned. He had been stoned half to death. He survived three shipwrecks. He had been abandoned and betrayed. Looking at his life, you might think Paul was cursed, or just really unlucky. But Paul never gave up. He kept planting churches and sharing the hope of the gospel. Thousands of people came to Jesus through Paul’s ministry – not in spite of his past, but because of his past. Paul’s pain gave him a platform to bear witness to Jesus.
If your past left you scarred, you need to know that God can use your scars. Every scar you have tells a story of survival, and God can use your scars to give hope to people who are going through the same thing today that you managed to survive yesterday. God will use your weakness to make someone else stronger.
This may sound a little weird, but I keep running lists of the people in our church who have been through extraordinarily difficult seasons. I try to know who here has survived abuse, divorce, depression, or the loss of a child. I want to remember which couples have experienced the pain of infertility. I keep these lists because, whenever someone comes to me in the thick of some crisis, I will know where to send them for the kind of support only someone who’s been there will know how to give them.
If you’re hurting today, I pray that you trust God with your pain. In the moments when you’re hurting and nothing makes sense, God can do his greatest work in and through you.
