Suffering

The Stewardship of Suffering

AMY SHORE | GUEST Winter crept into my heart early this past year. Weariness gave way to selfish wallowing and introspection as I reflected on hard realities during the holiday season. December 31st, I found myself unable to breathe. A beautiful sand dollar, a Christmas gift from a friend, lay shattered on the kitchen floor. I fell to my knees in despair alongside this visual representation of my current brokenness. January 1st, a morning filled with missed calls and urgent messages: my dad had suffered a heart attack and was undergoing surgery. Then came January 21st when I faced the devastating reality of his death. I couldn’t catch my breath. The Learning Journey “Learning to live in the reality of His presence is the essence of our prayers and our pilgrimage.”[1] For the past year and a half, well before my father passed, I’ve been chewing on that quote from Susan Hunt around the journey to know God better amidst fear and frailty. I long to live more fully in that reality. You may have heard the saying, “God never gives us more than we can handle.” My pride wants this to be true because it means I can pull myself up by my own bootstraps. I’ve tried. My bootstraps snapped....

The Stewardship of SufferingChristina Fox2025-06-21T19:25:35+00:00

Entering into the Joy of Others

LISA UPDIKE | GUEST Ecclesiastes 3 tells us that there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven, a blessed ebb and flow of challenge and loss, peace and rest. Joy and sadness. Births and deaths. Serving and receiving. And though we intellectually understand that we will have trouble in life, it still can catch us off guard. When the time of trouble persists, we cry out like the psalmist did, “How long, Lord?” We wonder, “Does the Lord even see me?” If we are in a particularly long, hard season we may wonder why the Lord is richly blessing others and not us. Well, at least that’s what I do. My guess is that I am not alone. For the past several years my life has been really hard, sometimes heartbreakingly so. Two of my children are going through some painful circumstances causing distance between us. My heart aches over our difficult relationship. In another sphere of life, my mother is aging and often in pain. She is lonely for my dad whom she lost five years ago to Alzheimer’s. It’s so painful to see her suffer, though she does so with grace. On top of these things, this past fall we were blindsided with grief when my husband’s youngest brother took his life. We had no warning. So. Much. Grief. And I hate to say it, but there is a lot more to this list. I’m telling you; my husband and I have been hurting. A lot. Still, we were hanging in there. We were growing and learning to cling to Jesus. But then there was just one more tragedy and it tipped the balance. It seemed more than we could bear. Was God actually kicking me when I was already down? I knew better, but at 4:30am when the phone rang, I knew it couldn’t be good news. My heart sank as I reached for the phone. The vet told me she was so sorry, but our dog had passed. You see, she had been rushed to the emergency vet the night before. We thought she was going to recover, but just like that, she was gone. My husband and I held each other and cried. This just seemed like too much. In our sadness, she had been such a comfort. Now she was gone. Hadn’t we had enough grief? Why this too?...

Entering into the Joy of OthersChristina Fox2025-06-12T18:05:51+00:00

Life After Cancer

MARISSA HENLEY|GUEST Editor's Note: Below is an excerpt from Marissa's newly published devotional, After Cancer: Thriving with Hope (P&R, 2025), used with permission. Filled with both dread and hope, I forced a deep breath through my anxiety-stricken lungs and stepped into the counselor’s office. Almost two years had passed since I had been diagnosed with a rare cancer called angiosarcoma. The chemotherapy, clinical trial, radiation, and surgery had ended about a year prior, and my scans showed no evidence of disease. Some days, I was thrilled to be alive. I felt happy, grateful, and free. Other days, I felt like cancer still had me in its suffocating grip. The new perspective that made me grateful for each day also made me greedy for years I wasn’t sure I’d get to enjoy. Cancer had been purged from my body, but it wouldn’t leave my mind. I was tired of feeling consumed by cancer. A few minutes later, I sat on the counselor’s sofa, telling my story through tears. I started with the facts: The lump in my breast. The phone call two weeks later. The internet search that revealed a grim prognosis. The oncologist at MD Anderson Cancer Center who looked me in the eyes and said, “I can cure you.” The months of chemotherapy. The clinical trial that took me away from my three young children for weeks and weeks as I received treatment in Houston, six hundred miles from home. Radiation and surgery, also in Houston. God’s faithfulness and provision through dark days of suffering, sickness, and fear. But my story was more than those facts. Fear, grief, and trauma interwove through those details, but I often buried my emotions as I shared the happy ending of my story. I talked freely about the when, where, and how, but I didn’t think people would want to hear the questions I wrestled with daily: Why? What now? I often separated the facts from my feelings when I told the story, but in the safety of the counselor’s office, my emotional turmoil rose to the surface and overflowed...

Life After CancerChristina Fox2025-05-24T16:33:49+00:00

The Article You Don’t Want to Read

LAURA PATTERSON | GUEST For the third time in five months, I found myself at the bedside of a dying family member. Yet again, I watched the regimented push of morphine and changing respiratory patterns that led to the death rattle. Apneas increased and lengthened, extra morphine was pushed, and that final breath—ready or not, it came. She went to her Father’s house on Father’s Day. My precious Granny was 86. Spoon-feeding her those final bites on earth felt so inadequate when I thought of all the ways she had fed me in my lifetime. Holding her cold, clammy hand on her deathbed could never match all the ways her hands had tenderly held me and my children. I felt helpless to provide the comfort and peace I longed to give her. She had lived a long life, but death still felt like an armed intruder. Death will always be an enemy in this life. But, to the one who will listen, death is perhaps the best teacher there is. The author of Ecclesiastes tells us this when he says, ”the day of death is better than the day of birth. It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind and the living will lay it to heart” (7:1-2). What can we learn from death and how can we pursue its instruction?...

The Article You Don’t Want to ReadChristina Fox2025-04-12T18:16:45+00:00

Content in Suffering

KC JONES|GUEST My children and I were recently reading the children’s classic story, Pollyanna, when I was struck by the many themes and motifs that run parallel to Scripture. I finished the tale with an epiphany I had never considered before. The story of Pollyanna revolves around a little girl who beams with joy and wholesome goodness. After she is orphaned initially by her mother and then by her father’s passing, Pollyanna moves in with her Aunt Polly who lives by a strict code of legalism which she refers to as “her duty.” Life is as you would imagine it would be for a young child moving in with a spinster who has never dreamed of, let alone entertained precocious, young children she has been tasked to raise alone. Holding on to Joy Pollyanna sets about revolutionizing the small town of Beldingsville by spreading the innate joy she feels with each individual. It is not long before it becomes evident how she impacts each resident, one at a time. Pollyanna’s secret is a little game her father taught her to play called the “glad game,” a personal challenge to come up with something she is thankful for despite the hardship she feels, no matter how small or insignificant. As Pollyanna lives out this model, members of the community, who at first had remained reticent, begin to grow curious, then find themselves playing the game as well. A measure of grace soon pervades the residents who were once broken and embittered by the trials of life—which end up being the very catalysts for moving them to a deeper place of joy. Pollyanna’s genuine good nature compared with the resident’s hardened hearts, reminds me of the Apostle Paul who knew firsthand what it meant to remain content during suffering. Consider what Paul tells the Corinthians regarding suffering, “For this light and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:17-18). Paul not only understood the depths of human misery, but also maintained joy through such suffering because he knew God was using it to strengthen his faith. Like Paul, Pollyanna tenaciously holds onto joy despite the various difficulties she faces, both large and small. She refuses to lose the game...

Content in SufferingChristina Fox2025-04-12T18:13:08+00:00

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of Weakness

MARISSA HENLEY|GUEST “I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us.” (Habakkuk 3:16) When I battled a rare cancer in 2010-2011, the effect of the chemotherapy on my platelets caused me to need a clinical trial and receive treatment hundreds of miles away from my home and my young family. I was suffering in a way that I never had before, and I was completely powerless to change my circumstances. A friend of mine read about a study in Greece that found that eating purple grapes would boost your platelets. It was on the internet, so it was probably true, right? I started eating large amounts purple grapes. You can probably guess how much impact it had on my platelets. That’s right—none at all. It was one more reminder of my weakness. I was suffering, everyone I loved was suffering along with me, and there was nothing I could do but sit in a beige recliner, passively receive the chemotherapy that made me feel awful, and beg God to heal me. When we’re in a winter season of suffering, we often feel weak and powerless to fix our circumstances. If we could change things and get ourselves out of that season, we certainly would. This feeling of weakness is an unavoidable part of our experience of suffering...

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of WeaknessChristina Fox2025-04-12T18:21:40+00:00

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of Wellness

MARISSA HENLEY|GUEST “Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.” (Habakkuk 3:17-18) In part one of this series, I shared my experience of battling a rare form of cancer as a young mom and how I saw God’s faithfulness on display. As we continue to consider Habakkuk 3 and God’s gifts of faithfulness in suffering, let’s focus on God’s gift of wellness in our winter seasons. When I talk about God’s gift of wellness, I don’t mean physical health or personal safety. We may not always have those things, but we can have a wellness in our souls because of the unshakeable promises and presence of our heavenly Father. Some of you may have read the first post in this series about the ways I witnessed God’s faithfulness and thought, “Well good for her, but that’s not my story.” Maybe today you can’t see how God is at work in your circumstances. Maybe you feel like God isn’t showing up or you don’t understand why He would allow this to happen. Maybe there can’t be a happy ending in your winter season as you grieve the loss of someone or something you’ll never get back. How is God faithful in those moments? Habakkuk was in a similar situation. He had no expectation that his circumstances were going to improve....

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of WellnessChristina Fox2025-03-04T18:23:20+00:00

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of Witness

MARISSA HENLEY|GUEST “A prayer of Habakkuk the prophet, according to Shigionoth. O Lord, I have heard the report of you, and your work, O Lord, do I fear. In the midst of the years revive it; in the midst of the years make it known; in wrath remember mercy.” (Habakkuk 3:1-2) Have you ever found yourself in a winter season of suffering, when your world feels dark and cold? My winter season started 14 years ago when I found a lump in my breast. The lump led to tests, which led to a biopsy, which led to a phone call on the day before my 34th birthday. The doctor said the biopsy revealed a rare and aggressive cancer in the lining of my blood vessels called angiosarcoma. A quick internet search informed me that I was statistically unlikely to live to see my three young children reach adolescence. I started a treatment plan of high doses of chemotherapy, covered by the prayers of thousands of people and supported by the most amazing community of family and friends. After two rounds of chemo, my situation got even worse. My platelets were dangerously low from the chemo, and the only way for me to continue treatment was to start a clinical trial at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, 700 miles from my home in Arkansas...

God’s Faithfulness in a Winter Season: The Gift of WitnessChristina Fox2025-01-28T19:09:55+00:00

Wrestling With God in Our Suffering

JULIANNE ATKINSON |GUEST As soon as I saw the area code of the phone call my husband was receiving, I knew something was off. I was pregnant with our first child and set to move for his job to Nashville, TN at the beginning of my third trimester. This was a city I had friends in, I knew there were good churches there, and it was a city we both liked. After a short conversation, my husband conveyed the news that there was a post they hadn’t accounted for in rural, northern New York state and he was now at the top of the list to take it. I was disappointed, but it wasn’t my first move and I hoped that God would have a good church and community there waiting when we arrived. Instead, I found a desolate place I never grew to love. I had left a large church in San Antonio where I was on staff and knew and loved each family and their kids by name. In New York, there were a handful of families hoping for a PCA pastor to come and pastor them. Church members brought meals when I had my son, but it felt more like they were checking off a box than done so out of friendship. I gathered the women of the church and started a Bible study in hopes of fostering fellowship as we studied God’s Word together. I ended up spending the study time preventing my son from climbing sky high, getting into people’s desks, and drinking bathroom chemicals. My husband worked long hours, weekends, and sometimes over an hour away. I was more lonely than I was during the Covid lockdown. It seemed like every hope I had for our move was dashed. The depths of disappointment I felt contrasted with the hope of change and led me to wrestle with God through it. Here my head-knowledge intersected with my very real and difficult circumstances. Were my toes digging into a sandy beach as the storm swirled around me or were they resting on the solid rock of the foundation of God’s promises? If everything around me fell down, I knew He would not. As believers, sometimes we suffer pain and loss so deep that we come to a crossroads in our relationship with God and who he is. Some might respond to that pain as though with a finger in his face saying, “How could GOD do this to ME?” Our hearts are hardened. We feel bitter. We struggle to forgive God. And we turn and run FROM him. Others might ask the same question, but with trust in God’s faithfulness to his promises—that he really is who he says he is. “How COULD God do this to me?” In that moment, we run TO Him and His Word. As we wrestle with his Word, we will find rest in the midst of our pain and rock under our feet...

Wrestling With God in Our SufferingChristina Fox2025-01-08T18:35:45+00:00

Though and Yet

PATRICIA CURTISS | GUEST I’m a Florida native and have lived here most of my life. Recently our state—along with several others—was slammed by Hurricanes Helene and Milton. It has been devastating and burdensome for family and friends. Over the past several weeks, I’ve been reading through the Bible’s minor prophets. It has struck me how some of the literal events described, or the imagery used, refer to such devastations: “…the sea grew even wilder than before…” Jonah 1:13 “…The mountains melt beneath him and the valleys split apart like wax before the fire, like water rushing down a slope…” Micah 1:4 “…His way is in the whirlwind and the storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet. He rebukes the sea and dries it up; he makes all the rivers run dry…The mountains quake before him and the hills melt away. The earth trembles at his presence, the world and all who live in it…” Nahum 1:3b-5 And then, there’s the last stanza in Habakkuk. Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields produce no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength, he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3:17-19 Habakkuk’s Walk Writing is a challenge. When writing, you’re trying to communicate your thoughts to someone without using your voice’s tonal inflections, facial expressions, or body language to assist in meaning. What is written must fully carry the message. It’s even more problematic when writing poetry where every word’s letter, every word’s sound, and every mark of punctuation is crucial in translating the poet’s meaning. The Book of Habakkuk reflects the language of psalms (Hebrew poetry) in the expression of his complaints, reflections on God’s character, and response of obedience. He was really steamed that the kingdom of Judah had turned away from faith in God under the rule of two wicked kings, Manasseh and Amon. Habakkuk understood God needed to punish Judah for its sinful rebellion. He just didn’t understand why a good and just God would choose to use a more wicked nation (the Chaldeans, 1:8) to do the punishing—they deserved punishment, too. After Habakkuk goes through a question/answer period with God, he responds by trusting and rejoicing. His example encourages us to do the same when faced with debilitating circumstances....

Though and YetChristina Fox2024-12-05T14:54:13+00:00