“To love is to suffer.” — Ann Voskamp
We spend our lives chasing love, yet we are often shocked when love hurts. We long for connection, intimacy, belonging, and then feel surprised when those very things become the source of our deepest wounds. Christianity never promised pain-free love. It does, however, promise redeemed suffering.
What if we shifted our focus in suffering from “Why does this hurt?” to “How can I endure this suffering and what might it teach me?” What if suffering stopped being a problem to fix and instead became a truth to understand?
A man of sorts, acquainted with grief.
Isaiah 53:3
We often interpret suffering as a sign that something has gone wrong, that we have failed or fallen outside of God’s favor. But Scripture tells a different story. In John 9:3, when the disciples ask Jesus whose sin caused a man’s blindness, Jesus responds, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” In other words, sometimes suffering is not punishment, it is preparation.
Because of free will and sin, suffering cannot be avoided in this world. Although suffering cannot be avoided, God faithfully inhabits it with us. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). The cross stands as the clearest picture of this truth: a God who does not remain distant from pain, but enters into it for the sake of love.
Maybe, just maybe, suffering is not mainly about what it takes from us, but about what it gives to us and what it gives through us. Our wounds of heartache can become the very places where the light of Jesus shines. From sufferings are born empathy, depth, quiet authority, compassion, hope, and testimony. As Paul writes, “We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” (Romans 5:3–4).
Our lives here on earth are temporary, fleeting like a breath (James 4:14), but love is eternal. And it is this same love, intertwined with suffering, that shapes us for eternity with Jesus. Scripture reminds us, “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Corinthians 4:17).
I have always said that if you love deeply, you will grieve deeply. How do I know this to be true? I have lived it. I was given a personality that has always loved hard — the loyal, all-in, go-to-the-front-lines-for-you kind of love. And in return, I have also experienced deep heartache.
It sounds heavy, but it is also one of the most honest truths of being human. The moment we choose to love, we choose vulnerability. We open our hearts to something that matters deeply, knowing full well that loss, disappointment, fear, and grief may one day follow. Love asks us to risk everything – our comfort, our control, our sense of safety – and in doing so, it inevitably invites suffering. Yet we keep choosing it, because a life without love may hurt less, but it also means we live far less.
Jesus modeled this kind of love perfectly. “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end” (John 13:1). He loved fully and He suffered fully on account of that love. He wept at Lazarus’ tomb. He ached in Gethsemane. He endured the cross. Love carried Him there, just as love has carried me to some of my deepest suffering.
So again I say, to love is to suffer.
But to suffer with God is to be transformed.
It is in suffering that we are shaped more closely into the image of Christ, who Himself was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).
And somehow, in the mystery of it all, suffering becomes the soil where the deepest love grows.
God,
Give me the courage it takes to love fully, suffer faithfully, and trust God’s purposes.
Amen.
Why do we expect love without a cost? Where might God be working inside your suffering to deepen your bonds of love?
xo Carre
