“For He does not willingly bring affliction or grief to anyone.” – Lamentation 3:33 (NIV)
It’s fun and easy to tell our stories when we’ve reached a fairy, rosy, happy ending. Rarely do we tell our stories when we feel lost in a dark, confusing, lonely path. Lonely because we tend to imagine that nobody gets us, or nobody feels the same pain, doubt, and the deep sense of angst within us. It’s easy to let shame take over, withdraw, and give up our desires, hopes, and faith.
As a believer, being in such spaces can cause you to doubt your faith and see no sense in praising, praying, or hoping. Getting to those levels can be heart-wrenching.
Choosing to be indifferent can feel safer than acknowledging that you’re hurting, and God seems silent.
Does God still care when our prayers seem to go unanswered?
When all seems dark and we’re not certain of our next meal or step in our path?
When joy doesn’t really come in the morning?
How do we praise Him when all we have is doubt, sorrow, and ultimatums?
I love listening to stories of victory, resilience, and grace. I gain a lot from just hearing another person’s journey, especially when I’m looking for meaning in a challenging season I’m facing or when life just doesn’t make sense to me. I used to get drawn to people who were successful in their craft, public life, and their families. I always wanted to know what got them where they were.
I assumed it was hard work and somehow imagined that perhaps it was their devotion to some religious practices. With my hard-working spirit, I’d tell myself that if I worked a little harder and prayed a little more, I’d have the success I admire. And perhaps then I’d have solutions to all my problems.
My bubble burst when I realized that life under the sun is not free from pain and suffering.
Right now, I’m more drawn to people who’ve faced inexpressible pain in life and are still gracious. I want to have conversations with people on their deathbeds. I want to know what inspires them to still smile, love, and hope in the midst of their pain.
Living with chronic illness has pushed me to this end. It’s easier to tolerate a disease if it’s there for a week or requires recovery for some months. But when the doctor confirms the diagnosis and there’s no possible cure, then it gets complicated.
It means that you’ll need to adjust your life plans and dreams to accommodate the unwanted guest. There’s a season where I lived pain-free for 6 months. Those were beautiful days. My mother was happy for me, she couldn’t believe it. I testified that God had healed me. But the party ended when the pain came back with a high intensity, and I didn’t know how to praise.
I felt disappointed; I felt embarrassed for testifying about the miracle. But just because the pain came back doesn’t mean that God hadn’t healed me. He had. It didn’t mean that the testimony was for nothing; it did glorify Him. And it showed me that it’s possible to live a pain-free life with Endo.
With time, I slowly began looking for God’s goodness even in my pain. Some days I’d see it in a cheerful mood despite the pain. Other times, it would be being able to eat with minimal difficulties. When you’ve lived with prolonged pain, then small, small successes like having a pain-free afternoon are a win.
Sometimes I hear people around me say that one day I’ll get completely healed and we’ll praise God. I get conflicted whenever I hear that.
Why do we have to wait until the pain is over for us to praise?
Do I have to suspend my joys till then?
Is God’s goodness only limited to relief from pain?
I don’t doubt His healing power, but I also don’t base His goodness on Him only taking away my current troubles. I know He cares, and I am learning to be grateful in this season. To look for His comforting voice when pain threatens to lead me into despair. To praise Him in this storm. To thank Him for the little inconveniences He takes out of my way. And that makes my journey bearable.
It’s possible to praise in the storm.
This may mean writing down the little things that are still working for you and being grateful for the people who sit with you without condemning, shaming, and fixing you. Singing that song that keeps you going or repeating that line that keeps your faith alive.
Sharing your story while you’re still uncertain of the outcome may not make sense to you, but you never know how much courage it gives another person to push through in their own story.
This part of your story matters.
What if I could tell you that you’ll know God more personally in this dry season?
What if I told you that God sits with us in our pain and that we’re only able to brave through the storm by His grace?
What if I told you that He truly does care?
It’s okay if this feels hard to believe right now. Give yourself time. But please remember, there’s no shame in your struggles. Somebody admires your resilience. This season matters. I pray you find the courage to honor every part of your journey. You matter.
Love,
Faith
Faith is a Children’s Content Creator at Learn & Grow enterprises, Storyteller and Mental Health Advocate. She tells her story to offer hope, help and healing to survivors of sexual trauma.