Product of Suffering

Wouldn’t it be nice to experience the richness of Christ’s hopeful expectation without the pain of needing hope?

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.  And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”[1] 

Ask anyone if they want a life filled with abiding love and never-ending hope, and you’ll get a resounding “Yes, please!”  But then follow that up by revealing that all candidates must walk through fiery adversities first; your crowd of “yes please-ers” will suddenly thin out.  We want the fruit of labor without having actually to labor.  We want something for nothing.

But Christianity operates in an otherworldly dominion.  In this “can’t be comprehended” dominion, suffering brings true rejoicing.  Why?  Because suffering is a joyous walk in the park?  Is Paul telling us to be jolly ol’ sports, pin a smile on our faces, and merrily row along?  “God forbid!”[2] 

The word Paul used for suffering is a strong Greek word that means deep turmoil and pain.  Paul knew what it was like to endure hardship.  This is the man who was imprisoned multiple times[3], lived under house arrest[4], was beaten with rods in Phillipi[5] three times, and received 39 lashes on five different occasions.[6]  But that’s just the start of Paul’s list of adversities.  He was shipwrecked on the island of Malta[7], and was stoned by an angry crowd in the Lycaonian city of Lystra.[8]  He knew the inner turmoil of sleepless nights and anxious days.[9]  He was experienced with losing friends and being left alone without support.[10]  And while Scripture doesn’t give us specifics, we know that Paul dealt with some type of chronic pain and illness.[11]  Paul’s memoir includes examples of “weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities.”[12]  This is a man who could speak from a place of experience and proclaim loudly that life is hard… so very hard!

While Paul clearly exhorts us to rejoice, he points to the product of our suffering as the cause of rejoicing.  “Rejoice in our sufferings, knowing…” that God will not fail. 

I love how The Message Bible translates these words: “There’s more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next.  In alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling shortchanged.  Quite the contrary—we can’t round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit!”

Do you ever feel shortchanged in God’s economy?  Hope Heals, a Jay and Katheryn Wolf ministry, often refers to God’s economy as “upside-down.”  The first is the last.  The last is the first.[13]  The humble are exalted.[14]  The empty are filled.[15] 

Hypothetically, I might often find myself screaming at the Lord, “If this is how you reward your followers, it’s a pretty crummy compensation package!”  I don’t feel hope-filled and overflowing with the purpose and direction His love provides.  In fact, I often feel “put to shame.”  Like I might need to help God out a bit because His reputation for being loving and good might shatter. 

Many people have encouraged me to write a biography about this lifelong health journey of mine.  Life-threatening asthma from birth.  Dysautonomia at age twelve.  Severe abdominal pain gifting me with annual exploratory surgeries at eighteen, nineteen, and twenty.  A complete hysterectomy at age twenty-three thanks to stage four Endometriosis.  Debilitating bilateral knee pain resulting in an Avascular Necrosis diagnosis and introduction to part-time wheelchair use at thirty-three.  And that’s when I got promoted to the elite level of chronic health issues.  An average of one surgery every quarter for six years.  Avascular Necrosis of the hips.  Blood transfusions due to anemia.  Osteoporosis of the spine.  Vertebra fractures.  Diabetes.  Pulmonary Embolism.  Covid-19 Alpha variant.  Ventilator.  Abscess in the brain.  More than six months of hospitalized care.  Airlifted.   And advised to prepare for death.  If I were to write said book, there isn’t a publisher around who would print it as an autobiography.  They’d designate it as a work of fiction!  Regurgitating my medical history to new providers elicits responses like, “Wow.  I see.  Unbelievable.  Could you say that again?  Did I hear you correctly?” 

So, friends like Paul, I know about suffering and pain.  I am intimately acquainted with grief. 

Is Romans 5 telling us to rejoice that we’re hurting?  To be grateful for our suffering?

No. 

I don’t believe Scripture makes this command.  On the contrary, God’s Word shows us the importance of allowing ourselves room to grieve and permitting ourselves to lament.   Psalms is filled with David calling God out on the carpet for the overbearing troubles in his life.  Job laments his suffering to God, not holding back any punches. 

I believe Paul is commanding us to rejoice in the outcome of our suffering. Amy Carmichael, a missionary to India who was befriended by suffering, encourages us that “In weeping before the Lord, we anticipate praise that has not yet arrived.”  We must lift our eyes above the right now to the coming soon.   

Renowned theologian Charles Spurgeon asks, “Do you want to be carried to heaven on a feather bed?”  If I’m honest, there are days when I would answer Spurgeon’s question with “Yes, please.  Bring on a luxurious, high-quality mattress with a plush, pillow-top layer encased in a soft, breathable fabric!” 

There are days when I can’t raise my eyes high enough to see the promised hope and love.  Days when I don’t feel incentivized to keep walking through the pain.  Days when my human heart and brain are not concerned about the future and are more worried about present survival. 

In the previous verses of Romans, Paul has been pounding home the truth that salvation is through the grace of Jesus Christ alone.  We have no way to earn this standing.  In Christ alone, we have the privilege of going directly to the throne of the Father. 

It is then, in Christ alone, that we receive the vision of the future hope and love that He has promised.  It is then that we are not put to shame.  It is then that we feel the exchange of suffering for perfect hope and love is equitable.  But only when we look through God’s otherworldly glasses.    

In Romans 5, Paul says that “Tribulation worketh patience.”  Spurgeon so aptly expands, “Naturally, it is not so.  Tribulation worketh impatience, and impatience misses the fruit of experience and sours into hopelessness.  Ask many who have buried a dear child, or have lost their wealth, or have suffered pain of body, and they will tell you that the natural result of affliction is to produce irritation against providence, rebellion against God, questioning, unbelief, petulance, and all sorts of evils.  But what a wonderful alteration takes place when the heart is renewed by the Holy Spirit!”[16]

Just as salvation is a gift from God, given to us without merit, so is His continued grace to look above suffering and toward the reward to come.  Only when that “wonderful alteration takes place” can we experience Spirit-power to look at the finish – looking over the pain of today.   

Like many of you, I have been watching the Paris Olympics.  Women’s gymnastics is my favorite, and I’ve watched in amazement as Simone and Team USA have wowed the world.  The beam particularly interests me – the balance, grace, and headspace exhibited are exceptional.  As I’ve listened to the broadcasters explain the elements of each program, one thing stands out.  That is the vital importance of eye position in sticking a landing.  She says that the gymnast must focus their eyes on the end of the beam and keep them there with every jump, twist, and turn.  Keeping your eyes glued to the end of the beam balances the system and keeps the gymnast spatially aware of their surroundings.  They can’t focus on the now.  They focus on the end.  And when their focus is on the end of the beam, they find safety and success. 

There is a slight nuance between rejoicing in suffering and rejoicing in the product of suffering.  We rejoice in our suffering, KNOWING that the product is endurance, character, hope, and love. 

I wouldn’t have picked this journey for myself.  I don’t rejoice that I’m disabled and daily endure unending pain.  But I do rejoice in the fresh hope of Jesus Christ each day.  A hope that is still being produced in me by pain, grief, and heartache.  I’m not thankful for my struggles.  But I am grateful for what I’ve learned of my Father through them.

Lord, I don’t pretend to know your will and ways.  I can’t always see the product of my suffering when suffering itself looms before me.  I won’t go seeking pain or searching for heartache so that I can have greater hope.  But, with the overflowing of Your grace, I won’t run from adversities or lose sight of the finished product of hope.  I rest in Your deep love today, remembering that You ‘allow what you hate to develop what You love.’[17]  I stand and fight through another day, knowing You won’t put more on my plate than YOU can handle.”

Until Next Time,

[1] Romans 5:3-5 ESV

[2] Romans 6:1-2

[3] Acts 16:23-24

[4] Acts 28:16

[5] Acts 16:22

[6] 2 Corinthians 11:24

[7] Acts 27:41 – 28:1

[8] Acts 14:6-7, Acts 14:19

[9] 2 Corinthians 11: 27-28

[10] 2 Timothy 4:10

[11] 2 Corinthians 12:7-10

[12] 2 Corinthians 12:10

[13] Matthew 20:16

[14] Luke 14:11, James 4:10

[15] Luke 1:53

[16] Charles Spurgeon (italics mine)

[17] Joni E. Tada