Suffering

Some years ago I attended a theology class on suffering. About twenty-five of us sat in a small classroom, with tables placed in a rectangle form so that we could face each other when we spoke—our teacher sat snug in the middle, standing only periodically to write on the whiteboard. It struck me that for this class on suffering we all sat together, almost as if we were “sitting shiva”--a Biblical way of mourning for the deceased for a period of seven days. We grieved over our own experiences of loss, as well as those of our classmates. 

We spent only one short week together but it was among the most powerful and enriching spiritual experiences I have had in a very long time. I met there women (and two men) from all over the US and all across the spectrum of life: single women young and old, consecrated, missionaries, married folks, stay-at-home moms, students, business ladies, volunteers, teachers, the list goes on. And as the week unfolded, even the “shy” ones began to share their stories on suffering. The classroom became an open space for each person to lay open their own burden, their own understanding of the suffering they went through, and the suffering or loss itself. We were allowed into places that perhaps few of their close friends and relatives had been allowed into. Yet, there we were–strangers now closer to one another than most because of this experience that unites all of us, really–suffering.

To my right sat a woman who had to bury her youthful son. Some places down to my left sat a woman with a diagnosis for her baby boy that meant he might not live very long. Across from me sat a man whose story I will never forget. The short of it is that his brother was murdered. He planned his own vengeance while carrying a heart full of hate. One day, grace worked on him so deeply that not only was he able to forgive the perpetrator but have his heart be filled with mercy towards him and desire that he come to know the Lord’s great love. He was able to share the Gospel message with the perpetrator while he sat in a prison cell. This classmate would repeat the following sentence throughout the week: Your greatest suffering is your greatest suffering–don’t compare your suffering to someone else’s.

I didn’t understand this fully at first. But, as the years have passed–another miscarriage, a c-section, a move to a new country, too many goodbyes to list, the sudden death of a beloved uncle, the grief that still continues to come in waves of a dear friend who died suddenly five years ago, our two babies in heaven, and so many things in between–I have come to understand it more. In the world of social media, it may be very easy to compare our sufferings and what we have been through. Either we think ourselves more wise or holy because of what we have been through or we think, “Wow, I could never survive that” when we read about someone else’s hardship. Yet, as my friend shared in that small classroom, the truth is that what has broken our hearts, has broken our hearts. We don’t have to compare heartbreaks or breakthroughs. 

In this business of life, the easiest thing we can do is compare ourselves to others only to find ourselves lacking on most days. But the way we are called to live is very different. We are called to pick up our crosses and follow Him–Jesus, our Lord–not someone else. If we pick up our crosses, our sufferings, and hardships and look ahead of us, instead of over to the people around us, we will see that there are footsteps that go before us–bloodied by love, perseverance, and devotion. Our Lord Jesus walked this road of suffering so that we may learn how to walk it ourselves–clinging to Him for our strength, for the reminder of our own identity and belovedness amidst the pain, for a fresh breath of hope as we fear to be swept away by the waves of grief.

Saint Paul says, “Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church…” (Colossians 1:24). What was lacking in the offering of Christ? Nothing–except you and me–our cooperation, our will united with His, our ‘yes’ to what may come. 

I invite you today, as we near the holy time of Lent, to turn to Him in your heart and ask Him to show you more of His nature, more of His heart, in the midst of your suffering or trial. Allow the Lord to reveal to you the true meaning of suffering–intimacy with the Crucified and becoming partakers in His redemptive act. Do not let a tear go to waste, give Him everything and ask Him to use every hurt, every suffering, every loss, for His glory. We will only know in heaven the extent of the fruit of our sufferings united with Christ’s.

~grace and mercy will follow me all the days of my life.~