
When Suffering Isn’t About You: Unraveling the Mystery of Pain, Purpose, and the Works of God
When I sat across from a grieving family, wrestling with the unanswerable after an unexpected tragedy, I realized the question ‘Why does God allow suffering?’ isn’t just philosophical, it’s personal. With two decades of ministry, countless late-night conversations, and my own scars, I’ve heard (and felt) that cry more times than I can count.
In this article, I want to go beyond easy answers and explore a radically different take: What if sometimes, our pain has a purpose bigger than us? I actually tackled this in a sermon a few months ago when we examined John 9. In that chapter, we observe a moment in the ministry of Jesus that gives us one such moment, and it might just transform how we see pain, faith, and the works of God.
The Unavoidable Question: When Pain Hits Home
After twenty years in Christian ministry, I can tell you with certainty that ‘Why does God allow suffering’ dominates every conversation about faith.
Throughout my Christian ministry, the number one question I have been asked is, ‘Why do bad things happen? Why does God allow so many bad things?’
There’s no close second. This question surfaces everywhere—from global tragedies like wars and mass shootings to deeply personal struggles with infertility, betrayal, and unexpected loss. I’ve sat with friends whose lives completely unraveled after losing a child. I’ve watched people of deep faith wrestle with confusion when pain strikes without warning.
The Christian perspective on adversity acknowledges this reality: suffering touches everyone. That questioning ‘why’ is universal, regardless of spiritual maturity. Sometimes, reasons seem obvious; most times, they don’t. If you’ve ever asked “Why me?” you’re not abnormal, you’re human.
Beyond Easy Answers: The Range of Suffering’s Causes
When pain strikes, we desperately search for answers. Sometimes suffering connects clearly to our choices, but more often, it remains a mystery that leaves us grasping for understanding.
In most situations, we don’t really understand. Most of the time, when things come our way, we don’t fully understand or we understand maybe partially, and it breeds confusion.
Scripture reveals at least six distinct biblical reasons for suffering throughout the New Testament alone. Popular explanations that point to personal sin or free will often fall short of explaining our experiences. The familiar answers about brokenness don’t always apply.
Could pain sometimes not even be about us? Scriptural teaching insists suffering has multiple reasons—including some that defy simple explanation. God often works for purposes we don’t see immediately, sometimes revealing His glory through circumstances beyond our comprehension.
A Case Study in Purpose: John 9 and the Works of God
Picture this scene: Jesus and his disciples encounter a man blind from birth, probably around twenty years old. The disciples immediately ask the question everyone was thinking: “Rabbi, who sinned—this man or his parents? (John 9:2)”
In ancient times, disability carried deep shame. People believed ailments resulted from sin, making the afflicted social outcasts. This young man had lived two decades of loneliness and disgrace.
But Jesus shocked them with a third option.
“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him. (John 9:3)”
Twenty years of suffering wasn’t punishment—it was preparation. This John 9 healing story would become Jesus’s coming-out party in Jerusalem, introducing him to the religious capital. Sometimes our deepest pain becomes the stage where God’s glory through suffering shines brightest, touching lives we never imagined.
The Ripple Effect: When One Person’s Pain Becomes Many People’s Miracle
The healing caused a city-wide stir in Jerusalem. Sometimes suffering has an unexpected impact that extends far beyond the individual. The Pharisees and crowds demanded explanations—not everyone welcomed this miracle. They interrogated the man, peppered him with questions he couldn’t answer.
But his testimony was powerful in its simplicity: “One thing I do know…I was blind, now I see. (John 9:25)”
Sharing lived experience, more than debates, can catalyze belief and transformation for others. This man’s honest vulnerability—admitting what he didn’t know while declaring what he experienced—proved more compelling than theological arguments.
The purpose of suffering became clear through its ripple effects. This event loomed large in future conversations about Jesus’ identity. Church history reveals that many Pharisees later converted to Christianity after the resurrection, partly attributed to witnessing miracles like this one.
Embracing Imperfection: It’s Okay Not to Have All the Answers
I want to alleviate that pressure from you this morning. The man born blind gives us a great model to follow when people pepper us with questions we don’t know. It’s perfectly appropriate to say, “I don’t know the answer to that question. Here’s what I do know. I was blind, and now I see.”
We don’t need theology degrees before sharing our faith. Sometimes, simple testimony trumps complex apologetics. Many believers feel paralyzed by tough questions, but this man models confident simplicity in his Christian perspective on adversity.
Real faith grows in tension with the unanswered. Relinquishing complete certainty can unlock authentic witness and deeper peace. The awkward courage of saying “I don’t know, but here’s what I’ve experienced” often speaks louder than perfect arguments during obedience in difficult times.
A New Look at Suffering: Your Story in the Long Game
Sometimes the purpose of suffering isn’t about immediate relief or obvious lessons. It’s about a much bigger story unfolding over time.
Before this amazing event ever happened, a young boy was suffering in pain, embarrassed, for two decades of suffering.
This hits me hard. What if my darkest moments aren’t actually about me at all? What if they’re setting the stage for someone else’s breakthrough decades from now?
The true impact of suffering may unfold over years, even centuries. The Christian perspective on adversity suggests that God’s redemptive plan often works through our pain in ways we can’t see.
History tells us many former enemies of faith later converted because they witnessed the ripple effects of miracles born from suffering. In God’s grand sweep, our pain isn’t wasted—it’s carefully stitched into something redemptive.
Conclusion: Invitation to See Differently
Not all suffering is punishment or randomness—maybe it’s a prelude to something profound. The blind man in John 9 endured twenty years of pain so God’s glory could shine through his healing. Our scars can echo God’s glory far beyond our understanding, reaching people we may never know.
Questioning why God allows suffering isn’t faithlessness; it’s often how faith grows deeper roots. Wrestling with doubt can become an act of worship when we bring our wounds honestly to God.
Here’s your takeaway: Next time pain hits, consider asking “Who might see God through me?” instead of just “Why me?” Our lives are like stained glass—pain refracts the light in ways plain glass never could. The purpose of suffering may transcend our understanding, but God’s glory through suffering can illuminate others’ darkness in ways we never imagined.
Suffering isn’t always about us. Sometimes, in ways we rarely expect, our hardest moments become the canvas for God’s glory, impacting countless others. The story of the man born blind in John 9 shows that pain can have a purpose beyond comprehension—and that honest wrestling with ‘why’ is not only normal, it might be part of God’s plan to reveal himself through us.