
When the Suffering Doesn't Make Sense: Finding the Redemptive Purpose
Sometimes life throws pain at us that feels meaningless. Remember that Christ didn't come to remove suffering, but to transform it.
Brothers and sisters, if you’ve ever wrestled with the great mystery of suffering—the 'why' behind the pain—you know the weight of that question. It’s the question that keeps us up at night, the one we wrestle with in quiet moments of prayer, or perhaps right in the middle of a difficult missionary discussion.
We read books, we hear sermons, and we search for the neat little answer that will make everything feel whole again. But sometimes, the answer isn't a neat little package; sometimes, the answer is Christ Himself, meeting us right in the mess.
Recently, I was pondering this, and it brought to mind the profound wisdom shared by Father Mike Schmitz. It’s a reminder that the saints and the martyrs didn't find a magic shield against hardship. What they found, what sustained them, was understanding that their suffering could be given a *purpose*.
It’s Not Removal, It’s Transformation
The natural inclination, when we feel overwhelmed—whether it’s a personal trial, a family struggle, or just the sheer exhaustion of trying to keep the commandments—is to ask, "Why isn't it over?" We expect our Savior to swoop in and take the pain away. But the message, as I’ve come to grasp it through my own experiences in the field, is that He didn't come to take the suffering away; He came to *transform* it.
Think about it: Christ didn't bypass the valley of the shadow of death. He entered it. He endured the depths—the emptiness, the perceived abandonment, the betrayal. He didn't just walk around the suffering; He walked *through* it.
The Wisdom of Weakness
What struck me most was the contrast St. Paul draws in 1 Corinthians. To the world, the Cross looks like weakness, foolishness, and powerlessness. It makes no sense! But for those who know the gospel, it reveals the ultimate power and the deepest wisdom of God. What looks weak is, in fact, the power of God at work.
This isn't just intellectual assent; it’s a shift in perspective that requires the Spirit’s gentle nudge. It means accepting that sometimes the greatest revelation comes wrapped in the most confusing circumstances.
Rejoicing in the Redemptive Arc
Then we get to the hardest part: Paul saying, "I rejoice in my sufferings." It sounds utterly ridiculous, right? We think, "How can you *rejoice* in pain?"
The key, as the teaching points out, isn't that we *enjoy* the suffering. It’s that we participate in its *redemptive* work. Jesus extends a sliver of His Cross to us. When we understand that our trials are not random punishments, but rather opportunities to partake in the Atonement—to learn patience, to develop deeper reliance on the Savior, to feel the divine strength flow through our own frailty—then our perspective changes.
My challenge to you this week, my dear fellow disciples, is to look at a small area of discomfort—a challenging relationship, a study topic that feels too hard, or even just the mundane grind of daily life—and ask: "How can the Spirit help me see the redemptive potential here?" Don't try to solve the mystery; just invite the Spirit into the mystery with you.
Keep the Momentum Going
Remember, our calling as Latter-day Saints is not just to *know* the gospel, but to *live* it. And living it means bringing that Christlike endurance into every corner of our lives, whether we are in the MTC, serving a mission, or right here in our homes as Internet missionaries.
If this talk resonated with you, I encourage you to join us for our weekly Disciple Challenge. It’s a low-pressure way to build our testimonies together. We’ll be diving into some powerful insights from the Iron Rod authors next week, and we’ll have a dedicated session with Davee to walk through some tough doctrinal questions you might have!
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