The Fellowship of Suffering: Finding Hope in Our Pain

February 16th, 2026
by Chestnut Mountain Presbyterian Church

There's something profoundly mysterious about suffering. It visits us uninvited, disrupts our plans, and forces us to confront questions we'd rather avoid. Yet woven throughout Scripture is a remarkable truth: our suffering is not meaningless, and we do not bear it alone.

Isaiah 53:4-6 paints one of the most moving portraits of redemption in all of Scripture:

"Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows, yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities. Upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray. We have turned everyone to his own way. And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all."

These verses reveal something we often try to separate: sin and suffering are inextricably bound together. Jesus didn't just deal with symptoms on the cross—He cured the disease itself.

A Story of Transformed Suffering
Consider the remarkable journey of Joni Eareckson Tada. At seventeen years old, a diving accident left her paralyzed from the shoulders down—a total quadriplegic with almost no mobility. Those initial days after the accident were shrouded in darkness. Lying face down on a table, her world reduced to whatever books or magazines were placed beneath her, she wrestled with devastating questions: Why is this happening? What does my future hold? She even contemplated whether suicide might be her only escape.

But something extraordinary happened. The Lord used her paralysis not to destroy her life, but to transform it—and through her transformed life, to impact countless others. She became a prolific champion for the gospel and a beacon of hope in the face of immense suffering.

In her powerful book When God Weeps, she shares stories that reveal how Christ truly understands our pain. She recounts telling a stressed firefighter that Jesus sympathizes with our weaknesses, that He's been there and understands. The firefighter's response was scorching skepticism. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal the smooth ends of two stumps where his hands should have been—burned off in a blaze, costing him his job.

"So He understands," the man bristled. "Big deal. What good does that do me?"

Fresh out of the hospital and no theology expert, Joni answered with raw honesty: "I don't know all of the answers, and I'm not sure that if I did that it would help. But I do know the One who has the answers. And knowing Him makes all the difference."

Then she spoke words that shocked even herself: "I'd rather be in this chair knowing Him than on my feet without Him."

That's the testimony of someone who has discovered something more valuable than physical healing—someone who has found the Healer Himself.

Three Anchors for Our Suffering
When we face the trials of this broken world, we need solid ground beneath our feet. Here are three truths to hold onto:

1. When You Feel Grief and Sorrow, Remember That Jesus Did Too

Christ didn't just experience physical pain on the cross. Bearing the weight of our sin meant feeling the full emotional devastation that comes with it. The grief. The sorrow. The crushing weight of separation from the Father.

This means when you bring your pain to Jesus, He understands exactly how it feels. In fact, He knows the depths of that pain far better than you do because He experienced it in its fullness—without the numbing effects of His own sin to dull the blow.

Your griefs are not wasted. They serve you by driving you back to the cross, keeping you tethered to the One who suffered so you won't have to suffer forever. Every morning, those in chronic pain wake up to a reminder: Jesus bought us freedom from these things. There's an end to pain because Jesus purchased it.

2. When You Are Sick and Broken, Remember That Jesus Felt That Too

Feel the weight of the words in Isaiah: pierced, crushed, chastised, wounded. Jesus knows physical pain intimately. He understands surgeries, accidents, treatments, and the daily grind of bodily limitations.

But here's what's crucial: don't separate the cause and the effect. Don't divorce sickness from sin. When we try to separate these realities, we're tempted to seek only anesthetics—temporary relief that never addresses the real problem.

Physical suffering reminds us that sin is real and its consequences are devastating. But it also points us to the cross where Jesus suffered so that one day we won't have to anymore. Suffering in this world is not forever. That's a truth we must constantly rehearse in our minds.

3. Remember That Jesus Shared in Our Suffering So We Can Share in His Joy

Physical sickness and emotional pain function like an annoying seatbelt alarm in your car. They're irritating, but they stop you from going too far down the road without the proper safety equipment.

God has left these reminders in the world for now so we don't get caught up in this world. They keep us focused on clinging to Jesus and the cross, preventing us from becoming blinded by this life and forgetting our desperate need for a Savior.

The sequence in the story of the paralytic is magnificent: Jesus forgives his sins first, then heals his body. It's a preview of what will happen for all who trust in Him. He forgives us now and will heal our bodies later—even better than He healed the paralytic, with perfect and permanent restoration.

So, What About Us?

Joni Eareckson Tada came to a place where she was thankful for her disability. Not that she liked it. Not that it wasn't painful. But her faith blossomed and bloomed, and her doubts were crushed under the weight of Jesus' good power and loving hand.

She envisions heaven this way: You step forward onto heaven's courts and drop to your knees in gratitude. The Man of Sorrows approaches with nail-scarred hands. When you feel your hands in His, you're not embarrassed by your own scars. Your suffering has given you a taste of what the Savior endured to purchase your redemption. Your suffering has prepared you to meet God.

But then, to your amazement, the fellowship of suffering fades like a half-forgotten dream. Now it's a fellowship of joy and pleasure—pleasure made more wonderful by suffering.
The pain of earth becomes a half-sigh. You smile, rising to your feet to live the life God has been preparing for you all along.

Weeping may endure for a night, but morning is coming—and the joy will be worth it all.

Posted in So What About Us?
Posted in isaiah