Visiting Kaitlyn and Jared in the hospital, June 2019
I don’t have a lot to say, so this should be quick.
Lately, I find myself thinking often about suffering. I keep thinking about the pain and hardship in the world. I keep thinking about the persistence of problems in the lives of people I love. More personally, I keep feeling the frustration of 2020. And it’s a tension, right? Some days feel like life won’t give me a break. Some days I feel like I can’t catch my breath. At the same time, I know that things are way worse for other people, so I probably really shouldn’t complain about my middle class comforts, right? Sometimes it’s hard to just talk about hardships.
Since you’re reading this, it’s likely that you own a computer or smartphone which means, on a global scale, you’re probably not doing so bad in terms of class and comfort. While we should really be cognizant of that perspective, that reality does not diminish the fact that 2020 has been—insert word of choice here—for most of us. This year has had its fair share of suffering and hardships. COVID has taken a toll on, dare I say, all of us. Not only that, but there’s also no clear end in sight.
While I am not grateful for COVID, I am grateful that COVID started in the spring. The days were getting longer, the weather was getting warmer, schools were getting ready to finish, vacations (whatever those are) were on the horizon. But that’s not the case anymore. The fall is coming. The days are already feeling a little bit shorter. Those of us in the Pacific Northwest are very aware that the coveted sunshine hibernates soon. The reality is sinking in that this dreamlike season of COVID, and the hardships that come from it, may not end soon.
I think this year has reminded many of us about the reality of suffering. Even in the carefree, pain-avoidant Western world, we are becoming more aware of the reality that life is not really in our control and that suffering is a real experience that kisses us all.
I got into this conversation with a friend this week. We ate our lunches and processed why God does not always stop suffering. I bet you’ve probably had a similar mealtime conversation.
The conversation got me thinking about my friendships. I’m blessed to have a good number of friends. I’ve got to travel the world with people I love and care about. A lot of my best memories and deepest laughs (the ones I call a gut-chuckle) are from spending every summer in my twenties touring the country with my band. I have some memories and moments that I will never forget. But do you know whom I feel closest to? It’s not the people in my life who I’ve laughed the loudest with; I feel closest to the people who I’ve cried the hardest with.
While there is a form of friendship that comes from the fun times, I have learned that there is a certain type of intimacy that only comes from suffering.
Kaitlyn McKinney is one of my best friends. There is probably no one who I’ve had more life experiences with or laughed harder with. But also there are few people who I’ve walked through more hell and shared more tears with either. The past two years specifically have been one for our books. My engagement ended and her husband, Jared, got cancer. As we were processing those things this week, Kaitlyn shared about the depth of relationship between her and Jared that has been produced by hardship and suffering. She said that they have always been close and loved one another, but being with someone in pain brings a different depth that makes all other intimacy seem insignificant in comparison. I get it. And maybe you get that too. If you talk to an athlete, first responder, or military personnel they will likely tell you about the intimacy that they have with their sisters and brothers from their shared suffering.
When I suffer, I normally pray that God would stop the suffering. When I suffer I often pray that God would basically swoop in with a helicopter and rescue me out of the suffering. I want a God who ends hardship and stops suffering, but think about that for a moment. A God who is powerful can prevent or save people from suffering. We probably don’t even know the number of times that God does exercise His power that way. If God always removed or pulled us out of suffering, then we would know that He is powerful, but we may not actually know that He is loving. I want God to pull me out of suffering, but what I have found is that God more often parachutes in and walks with me in suffering.
Here’s my point. If God pulls me out of suffering I know that He is powerful, but when God walks with me through suffering, I get to experience that He is loving.
When a person willingly walks with another through suffering, they subject themselves to some of the suffering themselves. It is in that self-denying and self-giving, in that others-centeredness that we actually experience the thing we all desire more than anything else—love. For what is love but to prefer, commit to, and work towards the wellbeing of others above oneself? God shows His love not by stopping suffering but by stepping into suffering
I have experienced that the God of the Bible is so much better (and different) than I could even make up. He is not just powerful, He is loving, and He is more loving than we could ever imagine. While I do not believe that suffering comes from God, I do think that a, not the, reason that God doesn’t always rescue us from suffering is because there is an intimacy that we find with Him as He walks with us through suffering. If God were to stop the suffering, would He also be stopping opportunities for intimacy? I’m not sure, but it’s worth the consideration. This could be why the Apostle Paul so fondly talks about having a fellowship of sufferings with Christ. Paul knew that God, in Jesus, willingly subjected Himself to unnecessary suffering, and I think it showed Paul that God is not aloof or uninvolved in suffering. He didn’t escape suffering; He entered into suffering. God knows suffering all too well.
I know that doesn’t explain why there is suffering in the first place, but to be honest, I don’t think the Bible provides a why for suffering. What the Bible does give is a Who amidst the hardship, and maybe that is what we need even more.
