I’ve thought recently about suffering, and I don’t think I’m doing it right. I’ve been in the ministry for a good while now and I know the verses that I’m supposed to know. Romans 5:3-5 says that we are to rejoice in suffering because suffering produces endurance and character and hope. James 1:2-4 says that we are to count it all joy when we suffer because suffering tests our faith and that produces steadfastness and that makes us perfect and complete. Even Jesus tells us in his Sermon on the Mount that we are blessed when we suffer, and we are to rejoice when we suffer because our reward will be great.

I know these things. I really do.

I’ve preached on them before. But I’m going through some things right now that entail some suffering, and it’s like I’ve completely forgotten everything I know. I haven’t rejoiced, really at all. In fact, instead of rejoicing, I’ve pushed back against my situation. I’ve gotten angry and frustrated. I’ve calculated ways to get back at the sources of my hardship. Really, I’ve acted as if my suffering is wrong and out of place. I’ve acted like it shouldn’t be, like I shouldn’t be suffering. I’ve acted like my hardship is an intrusion into what should be a generally smooth day-in/day-out. It’s like when you’re in the passenger seat of a car and you’re writing something down and then the car hits a big bump in the road and your pen slides all over the paper. That just shouldn’t happen. I should be able to write myself a note without my pen sliding across the paper.

And yet, in 1 Peter 4:12-13, Peter tells me not to be surprised at suffering. But I have been. Peter, as well as James and Paul and Jesus, seems to think that suffering is normal and natural and standard for my life. I should expect it. And not only should I expect it, I should rejoice in it, maybe even welcome it. But I’ve not done that very well. And because I’ve been surprised at my suffering and resisted the hardships and not rejoiced in them, then I’ve been angry and frustrated and unsettled.

I think my problem is that I’ve forgotten that God is in the middle of my suffering. You see, my response betrays the state of my soul. My reaction has been to try to deal with the source of the hardship: remove it, get righteously angry at it, blame it, devise ways to get back at the source of it, see myself as a victim. But I don’t think that’s what God wants. I can’t find anywhere in the Bible—and I wish I could—where God tells me to spend my energies trying to get rid of my suffering and hardships. Instead, I should be looking for God in the middle of my suffering and hardships. How is my suffering drawing me in to a closer connection to Jesus? When I deal with suffering, I don’t need to be looking out there, I need to be looking inward, in my own heart. I can get mad (or depressed or defensive or frustrated) at my circumstances, but I usually can’t change them. My heart is the only thing I can change.

So, what does suffering mean for my heart? Well, when I deal with hardships, am I looking to love and serve the person who may be the cause of my suffering? Jesus tells me to love my enemies and that certainly includes those who treat me in ways that cause me to suffer. Am I looking to deepen my trust in the Lord in the middle of my suffering? James and Paul want me to use suffering and hardships to produce steadfastness and endurance and character and hope. Am I rejoicing in my hardships? Peter tells me I should because it links me to Jesus in a vital way.

This attitude toward suffering and hardship and difficulty is not natural. In fact, it is supernatural. It is only produced by the Holy Spirit. My poor response just shows how much I need the Spirit’s work in my heart. Have mercy!