When hardship hits, how will you respond? If you had asked me this at the end of 2022, I might have been cautiously optimistic about my resilience. However, this optimism dried up at the turn of the new year as I experienced an onslaught of difficult circumstances: I saw humanity’s twisted evil nature on display in a court case addressing gross abuse of power; my own immune cells turned against me in a rare skin disorder; my family experienced major relationship breakdown; failed dental surgeries loomed over my head; and my Oma1 passed away. One thing came after the other, and I experienced the emotional, physical and spiritual weight of suffering. My heart was exposed and my weakness was on display. So how did I respond?
There is an old quote thought to be a Navy Seals maxim that goes, “Under pressure, you don’t rise to the occasion; you sink to the level of your training”. This was true of me. I suspect it will also be true of you. When hardship hits, you will sink to the level of your training.
But what does that look like? Is there anything you can do when you feel yourself beginning to sink? Let me explain.
Hardship
We begin to “sink” when we face hardship in the sense that suffering has unavoidable impacts that beat us down, impair our everyday functioning and expose our hearts. The interrelated effects of suffering are not easily teased apart, but it is helpful to talk about two kinds of impacts: the more obvious, external impacts, and the sometimes overlooked internal impacts.
External impacts
Firstly, the external impacts are those we typically think of when we consider the impact of suffering. Although more obvious, the diversity and sting of these impacts is often underestimated. Hardship is creative in how it causes pain, and this pain runs deep.
Initially, I began sinking because of the diverse external impacts of my suffering. My immune disorder was treated with experimental treatments that left me tired and sore. The constant doctor’s appointments and weeks of recovery posed constant barriers to normalcy. The court case awakened a heavy sorrow from experiences I had pushed deep into the recesses of my mind. I wept bitterly as I watched a dear friend testify to despicable events, knowing the scars it opened and the memories that would never be taken away. The family conflict simmered in the background through it all, the legitimate and deep hurt of loved ones weighing heavily on my mind. All these impacts of suffering were woven together into a complex web of pain.
Sadly, my pain isn’t unique. I could tell you about my friend Di, who faces chronic fatigue, which has isolated her from friends and which stops her from her everyday activities. I could tell you about Theo, who was injured in an accident, his independence taken away. I could tell you about Leanne, who battles with a mental illness that frustrates all her relationships. Or I could tell you about Kristen, who feels the immense sorrow of her son no longer professing to be a follower of Jesus.
Hardship is everywhere. Its impacts are unavoidable. Suffering confiscates our time and energy. It burdens our mind and limits our capacity. We don’t rise above our suffering; we sink in our suffering.
Internal impacts
More profoundly than the external impacts, the internal impacts of hardship emerge as we meet the pain of seeing ourselves more clearly. As the external impacts of hardship ravage our lives, our comforts and securities are shaken. Some of the lies we deceive ourselves with are revealed, and our lack of conviction is made clear. The battle changes from an external one to an internal one. Everything covering our weakness is taken away and we are laid bare in our suffering. Paul Tripp describes this largely spiritual struggle in his book Suffering, writing,
[Suffering] often reveals what we are truly reliant upon. We can cover our selfishness and pride with comfort. We deceive ourselves into thinking we are trusting God, when in reality we are trusting our own health, intellect or wealth.2
As the external impacts of suffering cause us to sink, we are forced to come face-to-face with what we truly believe. In other words, we sink to the level of our training.
Train yourself now
Hardship and suffering will certainly come, and you will be laid bare by them. At the very moment suffering complicates life, what you truly treasure will be made evident and any false securities, unfounded hopes and lacklustre loves will fail you.
This means we must treasure what is true now, before the hardship comes. Trust in what can truly bring comfort and hope. Build solid foundations that won’t fail. You may ask, “What are these truths that you think could have a real effect in the midst of the darkest, most lonely suffering?” My answer is two things: God’s goodness and God’s sovereignty.
God’s goodness
Suffering shows us the evil in this world. It is intimately tied to sin. The decay of our bodies, broken relationships, injustice and death—these are all a consequence of sin. When we see these things up close, we can be left without hope, overwhelmed by the evil and darkness of this world. So being able to truly know and cling to God’s goodness brings deep comfort and hope. It is a breath of air for lungs collapsed under the weight of suffering. It is a bright light in the creeping darkness.
In Psalm 77, we see Asaph cry out to God in his suffering and recall what he treasures about God’s goodness. The Psalm begins with the picture of Asaph sinking deep in his suffering. The trouble he faces is so great that nothing brings him comfort (v. 2). His circumstance is so dire, it seems like God is no longer loving or faithful (v.8) and his grace and compassion has left (v.9): he writes,
Has [God’s] steadfast love forever ceased?
Are his promises at an end for all time?
Has God forgotten to be gracious?
Has he in anger shut up his compassion?”
(Ps 77:8-9)
But he turns to the God he already knows and ponders what he has done (v. 11-12). Deep in his heart, he knows that God’s way is holy. There is no other who is great like God (v. 13). He works wonders and is truly mighty (v. 14).
Your way, O God, is holy.
What god is great like our God?
You are the God who works wonders;
you have made known your might among the peoples.
(Ps 77:13-14)
This is all abundantly clear in his redemption of his people from slavery in Egypt (v. 15). Asaph is so confident in God’s goodness that even in the midst of suffering that takes away his very words (v. 4), he knows that God is a God of deliverance. He is assured by true hope.
How much more comfort is there when we meditate on God’s goodness displayed at the cross! God did not distance himself from our suffering; he entered it in the person of Jesus. This glorious event is the pinnacle of his mercy, grace and patience. It is where perfect love and perfect justice meet. Yet it comes through an “excruciatingly odious and ignominious death”.3 How is such an event comforting to us amid suffering? Paul states it beautifully in Romans 8:32: “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” When we begin sinking, how wonderful it is to fall into the arms of the perfectly good one who loves us so greatly, he gave his Son to save us.
In the court case I was involved in, I saw the darkness of sin and its consequences in new and sickening ways. The evil of humanity was on display, and justice was completely out of my control. What hope can be found in the face of unpunished, unrepentant evil? My soul was crushed by the weight of evil, and the question that was continually on my lips was, “Why are you downcast, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?” (Ps 42:11a). I repeated this over and over to myself—sometimes for hours on end. The glorious answer that comforted my soul was this: “Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (Ps 42:11b). Before my suffering came, I knew that my God was trustworthy in every way. So when I began to sink under the weight of suffering, my soul was assured that hope could be found in God my Saviour.
God’s sovereignty
Rarely do we feel our own helplessness more than when we are suffering. So much is out of our control: we can’t heal a sick child, we can’t make someone happy again, and we certainly can’t bring the dead back to life. We are helpless in hardship.
What a glorious comfort it is, then, when we are assured that the one we rely upon is in complete, sovereign control. It means our suffering has a purpose. We have justifiable hope in the one who can deliver us from it.
One of my favourite examples of this is Joseph’s life. When I ponder it, I am shocked at his attitude toward such intense and prolonged suffering. He experienced familial rejection and betrayal, followed by a false allegation and years of wrongful imprisonment. All this was completely out of his control, and he had every reason to be bitter and pessimistic about the future. Yet he is so assured of God’s hand in all things that, in spite of the weight of his physical and emotional pain, he still hoped in God and envisioned God’s future. Because of that, he forgave his brothers (Gen 50:20). His training was such that he knew that nothing that had happened was pointless, because it was God’s plan for his good purposes.
We see Jesus demonstrate this same trust in God’s good plan at an excruciatingly painful moment in his life. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus is on the precipice of the greatest suffering imaginable: receiving the full wrath of God for all humanity’s sin. He has sunk so far in his suffering that his soul is described as being “very sorrowful, even to death” (Mark 14:34). I can hardly imagine the torrent of pain Jesus felt that night. In his anguish, he turns to his Father, pleading with him to take this cup away from him. But then he adds, “Yet not what I will, but what you will” (Mark 14:37). How could he pray something like that? He knew that anything that would happen would be God’s plan, and he trusted that God would bring good to pass. Let us meditate on the manifold goodness that has come from the events that ensued.
God’s sovereignty is something I have leaned on more heavily in the midst of family conflict. I feel a huge lack of control when I see family members hurting one another and feeling misunderstood. I can’t control what they say to one another. I can’t make them see things from my perspective. I can’t make them get along with one another. I certainly can’t change the years of history that have built up to these moments. I used to think that I could do these things, but more and more, I have seen my own helplessness in the situation. My lack of control brings me a heavy sadness and hopelessness. So stopping and pondering God’s sovereignty over these broken relationships has taken away my anxiety and has let me rest in his loving arms. Although I cannot control tomorrow, I know the one who does. Despite my lack of understanding, he knows exactly what is going on. Even though this suffering feels pointless, I can be sure that God has a purpose in it. I sing with the Psalmist,
Whom have I in heaven but You?
The earth has nothing I desire beside You.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.4
Treasuring these truths
So what next? I’ve described these beautiful truths to you so that you’re more likely to understand them. Is that enough? No! For these truths to be a strong foundation that you can fall on in the darkest most difficult periods of your life, you must truly treasure them. By “treasure”, I mean love, cherish and hold them as dear to you. It isn’t enough to merely be able to describe them; your heart must respond with joy when you hear of God’s goodness and your soul should long to dwell on God’s sovereignty. Listen to the Psalms: they are not merely a cognitive recounting of truths; they are the human heart sharing what it has tasted of Yawheh.
This treasuring happens over time—by the Spirit’s work and through an investment of energy. Here are three ways you can meditate on these truths so that you come to treasure them more and more.
Firstly, search for them in Scripture: God’s goodness and sovereignty are two of the most pervasive themes in the Bible. Search for them prayerfully, and you will come to love them more.
Secondly, sing them: God has given us songs that speak of his praiseworthy character and mighty power in ways that speak to our hearts. Listen to these songs and let them shape your hopes and beliefs.
Thirdly, speak them. Pray. How can you come to cherish God’s goodness and love God’s sovereignty? By experiencing it for yourself as you come to him in prayer. As you speak to God about everything in life, talk to him about the truths you have seen in his word. Ask him to show you these truths more clearly. Then when others suffer, gently remind them of these wonderful truths.
Suffering is an inevitable part of our lives this side of Jesus’ return. But God is always good, and God is always in complete and sovereign control. I pray that you will come to truly treasure these truths so that when you begin sinking in your suffering, you will not do so without hope.
Abby Vanmidde has completed her first year at Moore College.
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Photo by Eric Ward on Unsplash.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from The ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
Endnotes
1 “Oma” is the term for “grandmother” among those of Dutch ancestry.
2 Paul Tripp, Suffering (Wheaton: Crossway 2018), 32-40.
3 DA Carson, How Long O Lord? (Ada: Baker Publishing Group), 179.
4 Alanna Glover, “Psalm 73”. Music and lyrics by Alanna Glover. Joy in Sorrow. EMU Music. 2016, track 5.
