Why do we suffer?
“God is great” doesn’t mean things will always be easy. In fact, the deeper truth is this: God is present, even in the hardest places.
In moments of deep suffering, we often ask: Where is God?
That question is not only human—it’s sacred.
St. John of the Cross described suffering as “the dark night of the soul.” He didn’t mean it as a sign of God’s absence, but rather, a profound and mysterious drawing inward—a stripping away of the surface so we might meet God in the depths.
He wrote: “In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.”
This darkness is not punishment—it is transformation.
At the ripe old age of 56, I’ve entered a stage of life where the presence of death, illness, and fragility has become more apparent. Friends and family pass. Loved ones members grow ill. And I don’t know if it’s my age but I notice the most heartbreaking—children, so young and innocent, sometimes bear the heaviest burdens of disease.
Witnessing all this suffering, it’s only natural to cry out: Why?
Why does this happen? Where is God?
When I sit in prayer and quiet reflection, what comes to me is the suffering of Jesus Christ. God did not spare His own Son from the pain of this world. Jesus came not only to love, serve, and teach—but to also suffer. His sacrifice shows us that pain is not abandonment. Rather, it is a path to a deeper communion with God.
If Jesus—the perfect Son—was not spared suffering, why would we be?
This life is a journey: a sacred pilgrimage of love and loss, joy and sorrow. We are not being punished. We are being formed.
As writer Viktor Frankl once said: “In some ways, suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning.”
And scripture reminds us that suffering is not the end.
“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
— 1 Peter 5:10
The meaning is this: We are returning home. Every heartbreak strips away another layer of illusion, bringing us closer to the truth—closer to God. When all is taken from us, what remains is our essence—our soul, resting in the grace of the One who created us.
So, my dear brothers and sisters, let us proclaim with open hearts:
In this life, we will know laughter and tears, comfort and trial. But for every ache we carry, every tear we shed, it is proof that we have loved. And what a gift that is—to love, to feel, to exist—created by a God who loves us still.
May we walk this journey not in fear, but in faith.
Not in bitterness, but in trust.
Not asking Why is there suffering? but What is God doing within it?
Amen.
