This post came from a quiet moment outside the pediatric ICU, where my son Yohan was being treated for asthma. Things changed quickly overnight, and I was reminded how little control we actually have. So I started writing. First to sort through my own thoughts, then for my wife, and now for anyone else who might need the reminder that even in the hard days, God is still at work.

God uses suffering to teach his children to trust him. Period. No matter what we do to avoid it, dread it, or pray it away, in the school of Christ, suffering is not an interruption of the curriculum. It is the curriculum. It is not an elective that you can avoid as long as you store up enough credits on the remaining subjects. For Christians, suffering is not a sign of God’s absence. It’s often the most vivid proof of His presence. It’s not an indication that God has forgotten us, but strong evidence that He is both informing and forming us.

We must recover this simple but radical truth, that God trains His children through suffering. He does not merely allow it, He employs it. He does not merely permit affliction, He purposes it.

“For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.”

– Hebrews 12:6

The key word here being discipline, and not punish. The aim of punishment is to balance the scales, to give what is owed for wrongdoing. It cares about retribution and not about restoration. But for those who are in Christ, there is no punishment left to give. Jesus drank and emptied that cup. The justice of God was satisfied at the cross. That means, as Romans 8:1 declares, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” None. Not even a drop.

But discipline? Discipline is the loving training of a Father who is absolutely committed to our good. It’s not retribution, it’s refinement, it’s restorative. It’s not condemnation, it’s correction. It’s not God lashing out in anger, it’s God leaning in lovingly.

It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline?

– Hebrews 12:7–8

Suffering for us is not a detour, it is the Road.

From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible is filled with stories of suffering saints. Men and women God loved deeply, and yet led through storms, prisons, famines, betrayals, losses, and even martyrdom.

• Joseph was sold by his brothers, falsely accused, and thrown into prison for years. But by the time he stood before Pharaoh, Joseph could say, “God meant it for good” (Gen. 50:20). Not “God salvaged it,” but “God meant it.” The suffering was part of the plan.
• Job lost everything – his children, wealth, health, reputation – and yet he did not lose God. In the end, Job confesses, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you” (Job 42:5). Suffering taught him to trust not just in God’s gifts, but in God Himself.
• David, hunted and humiliated, cried out in the wilderness,
  “It was good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes” (Psalm 119:71)
  David didn’t despise his affliction. He saw it as God’s tutoring.
• Paul begged God to remove his thorn in the flesh. God didn’t. Instead, He replied, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). Paul came to treasure the thorn, not because it was painless, but because it was purposeful.

The real question in suffering is not who caused it, whether it came through the hands of devils, wicked men, or even natural disaster. Scripture makes plain that all sorts of secondary agents may be involved. But the believer’s eyes must be trained to look beyond the instruments and ask a deeper, better, and more Godward question,

What is God doing with it?

This is not to deny the real agency of Satan (Job 1–2), or the malice of sinful men (Acts 2:23), or the chaotic groan of a creation still longing for full redemption (Romans 8:20–22). The Bible does not flatten out causality. It distinguishes clearly between creaturely evil and divine sovereignty. But it never pits them against each other. Instead, it teaches us that God reigns over them all, and is never caught off guard by the tools He sovereignly permits.

In Reformed theology, we speak of God’s providence, His holy, wise, and powerful preserving and governing of all His creatures and all their actions. This includes suffering. As the Heidelberg Catechism puts it in Q&A 27,

“Providence is the almighty and ever present power of God

by which He upholds, as with His hand,

heaven and earth and all creatures,

and so rules them that

leaf and blade, rain and drought,

fruitful and lean years,

food and drink, health and sickness,

prosperity and poverty—

all things, in fact, come to us

not by chance

but from His fatherly hand.”

This means that when trials come, the Christian does not simply ask, “Who did this to me?” The Christian asks, “What is my Father doing through this?” The former can lead you into bitterness or despair. The latter leads you into worship and trust.

Trust doesn’t grow in the shallows

Trust is the painful, yet joyful daily surrender that says: “Father, I do not understand, but I believe You are good. Keep me close. Use this for Your glory.”

For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.

– Hebrews 12:11

Anyone can trust God when the bills are paid, the kids are healthy, and the path is clear. But real trust, the kind that anchors your soul when everything else is swept away, only grows in deep and trying waters. That’s why God leads us there.

• He led Israel into the wilderness, into dependence. He gave them manna day by day so they would learn, “Man does not live by bread alone” (Deut. 8:3).
• He sent Elijah to a widow during famine so both of them could learn that God alone sustains life (1 Kings 17).
• He let the disciples row all night in a storm before calming the sea, because He wanted them to ask, “Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?” (Mark 4:41)

God is not interested in flimsy faith. He is building resilient trust. Faith that has stared down the darkest night and still says, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15). You might be tempted to believe that your pain is meaningless. That it’s wasted. That your tears are falling into the void. But Scripture insists on the opposite.

“This light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.”

– 2 Corinthians 4:17

Suffering is not pointless. It’s productive. It’s preparing. God doesn’t waste anything. Not even your tears. He collects them (Psalm 56:8). He stores them. And He weaves them into the story of your sanctification.

If we’re honest, most of us would rather skip this part of the Christian life. We want trust without tests, holiness without hardship, and growth without groaning. But the God who loves you too much to leave you immature will not take shortcuts with your soul. He will lead you through fire, with purpose, with his enduring presence, and full of promises.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;

when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,

and the flame shall not consume you.”

– Isaiah 43:2

Suffering is the wound of a surgeon, not the attack of an enemy. And slowly, as you begin to see His hand in it all, your cries of “Why, Lord?” may not be answered fully, but they will be quieted by a deeper song. “I trust You. Even here. Even now. Especially now.” There are easier ways to learn trust. But none of them work. We all say we want to trust God more. But God doesn’t teach trust the way we’d prefer. Not because He doesn’t care, but precisely because He does. His wisdom never chooses convenience over formation. He’s after a kind of trust that doesn’t vanish at the first sign of trouble, and so, He will use trouble to forge it.

This is why I’ve come to believe something quite uncomfortable to my flesh – that suffering is the most effective instrument God uses to teach His children to trust Him.

The Theology We Didn’t Ask For

The hardest part about trusting God is not theological confusion. It’s the emotional trade it demands. Trust means letting go. It means laying down your imaginary blueprints for how life should go and admitting you don’t write your own history. We all want peace, but few of us want the price tag.

And yet, again and again, God lets us walk through the valley so that we finally look up. Pain is what pries our hands open. Sorrow is what pushes us to cry out. What Did You Expect?

Jesus said, “In this world, you will have trouble.” (John 16:33)

Paul said we must “through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God.” (Acts 14:22)

Peter said we shouldn’t be surprised when we face fiery trials. (1 Peter 4:12)

And yet, we often act like trials are a sign that something has gone wrong with our faith, when, in truth, they are often the very means God uses to grow it. Yes, there is a place for introspection. Scripture repeatedly calls us to examine ourselves (2 Corinthians 13:5), to confess sin, and to walk in repentance. But for the Christian, introspection is never meant to lead to spiritual paralysis or despair. It is a grace meant for our building up, not tearing down.

Suffering may indeed prompt us to ask, “Lord, is there any wicked way in me?” And that’s good. But it should not stop there. We must also ask, “Lord, what are You producing in me through this? What fruit of the Spirit are You cultivating? What false comforts are You removing? What glories are You preparing me to taste?”

Trials are not necessarily a sign of God’s displeasure. For the child of God, they are often signs of His fatherly care, the hands of a wise and holy Gardener, pruning the branches so they bear more fruit (John 15:2).

So yes, search your heart. But do so knowing that your Father is not looking to condemn you, He’s forming you. He is not tearing you down, He is training you to trust Him.

God is not in the business of giving His children easy lives. He gives them eternal ones.

Suffering is where our idols are exposed, our false comforts stripped, and our shallow theology deepened into a life-giving fountain. Suffering is not the interruption of our Christian life. It is the Christian life. The cross was not Plan B. It was always the plan. And those who follow the Crucified One must expect to walk with Him on the road marked by tears. But the same road is also marked by resurrection.

He Will Not Waste Your Pain

If you’re in the furnace now, let me say this plainly. God is not wasting your pain. Not a single tear, not a single sigh, not a single sleepless night slips through His fingers. He catches them all (Psalm 56:8). He records them all. And in the sovereign mystery of His grace, He uses them all.

And someday, whether on this side of eternity or the next, you’ll see that your deepest wounds were the cracks through which heaven’s light poured in.

If we wrote our own stories, we wouldn’t include suffering. But we don’t write our own stories. The Author does. And He writes better than we do. One day, you’ll look back and realise the seasons you begged God to remove were the very ones where He was doing the most loving thing He ever could, teaching you to trust Him when nothing else made sense.

Because that’s when it finally comes together, when you realise that He’s all you have, and He’s enough.

How Then Shall We Suffer?

If suffering is God’s school for trust, then how should we live as students in that school? What do we do when, not if, the trial comes? The Bible gives us real, practical tools to walk faithfully through the fire.

Here are four means of grace that God has most used in my life to anchor me through the trying seasons,

1. The Role of Prayer: Pouring Out Your Heart to God

When suffering strikes, prayer is often the last thing we turn to, not the first. We try to fix it. We research. We strategize. We call the doctor, the lawyer, the counselor. We scroll endlessly for answers. We exhaust every earthly option, hoping the pain will just go away.

And when none of it works, then we remember to pray.

Even then, prayer can feel hard. We don’t have words. We don’t know what to say. But Scripture doesn’t require eloquence, it invites honesty.

“Pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.”

– Psalm 62:8

Also, prayer in suffering is not always about asking for answers, it’s about staying in communion. When Job had nothing left to offer, he spoke to God. When Jesus was overwhelmed with sorrow in Gethsemane, He prayed. When Paul bore the thorn in his flesh, he pleaded. And God heard them all.

Don’t stop praying when it gets hard. That’s when prayer is doing its deepest work, tethering your aching heart to the throne of grace.

“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray.”

– James 5:13

2. The Role of Scripture: Clinging to God’s Promises

Suffering clouds our vision. Scripture clears it. When your feelings scream that God is absent, His Word assures you He is near. When doubts rise like floodwaters, His Word is the rock beneath your feet. Jesus quoted Scripture in His agony. The Psalms give us language for lament, and Romans 8 reminds us that nothing, not tribulation, distress, or death, can separate us from God’s love in Christ.

“If your law had not been my delight, I would have perished in my affliction.”

– Psalm 119:92

Cling to it. Memorize it. Speak it aloud. Let the truth of God’s character be louder than the voice of your pain.

3. The Role of Family and Friends: Let Them Carry You

God made us for community. And in suffering, we need people who will sit with us, weep with us, and remind us of what’s true when we forget it.

Paul didn’t suffer alone. He had Timothy. He had Silas. He asked for prayer. He asked for companionship. Jesus Himself, in His hour of anguish, brought Peter, James, and John into the garden and said, “Stay with me… watch and pray” (Matt. 26:38).

Let the people God has given you help carry the load. Don’t suffer in silence. Reach out to your family. Let your friends into your pain. And when someone else is in the valley, be the one who shows up, listens long, and speaks gently.

“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”

– Galatians 6:2

4. The Role of the Church: A Body Built for Suffering

There is no substitute for the local church. It is God’s household, the pillar and buttress of the truth (1 Tim. 3:15), and it is designed by God to be a place of comfort, correction, and community in suffering.

When you’re weak, the church sings for you. When you’re weary, the church prays for you. When you’re tempted to drift, the church holds you fast. Corporate worship in particular recalibrates your perspective. It reminds you that you’re not alone, that Christ is King, and that eternity is real. Even when your heart feels cold, simply showing up, to hear the Word preached, to partake of the Supper, to kneel beside your brothers and sisters, is an act of faith. And God honors it.

“If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.”

– 1 Corinthians 12:26

The church is not just a place you attend. It’s the body that holds you up when your knees buckle. It is God’s provision for your perseverance.

A Final Word

Suffering is not random. And you are not abandoned. Through prayer, Scripture, your people, and your church, God gives you everything you need, not to avoid the valley, but to walk through it with Him.

So when the storm comes, and it will, anchor yourself to the God who wounds to heal, who refines to restore, and who always finishes what He starts.

“After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace… will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”

– 1 Peter 5:10