Chapter 6 - You Are Misreading Your Suffering
This series imagines what Paul might say to the American church today—written in the tone of a pastoral letter, shaped by the finished work of Christ. It is not Scripture, but a grace-filled reflection using Paul’s voice to address modern challenges.
Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus and a witness to His glory, to the beloved throughout the American church who face trials of many kinds: grace and peace be multiplied to you.
Beloved, it has been reported to me that many among you misunderstand the nature of your suffering. Some imagine that hardship reveals God’s displeasure. Others believe pain is a sign that they have stepped out of His will. Still others suppose that every trial is sent to teach them a lesson or purify their hearts, as though the Cross did not already accomplish your cleansing.
I write to you with compassion and firmness: your suffering is not a measurement of God’s love for you.
Neither is it a commentary on your righteousness, your faith, or your standing before Him.
Have you forgotten the word?
“He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all—how shall He not with Him freely give us all things?”
If God has given you His Son, will He now withhold Himself in your hardship?
Some of you interpret every difficulty as an attack of the enemy. Others declare every challenge a test. Still others see affliction as punishment. But these interpretations place the focus on your circumstances rather than on Christ’s finished work.
Hear me, dearly loved: pain is not always purposeful, but God’s presence is always faithful.
Your circumstances do not reveal God’s heart toward you—Christ does.
Do not confuse temporal difficulty with eternal judgment; the latter fell upon Christ once for all. Do not imagine that your tears cleanse you; Christ has already made you clean. Do not suppose that suffering is the tool by which God shapes you; you were already made new, righteous, and complete the moment you believed.
Some will say, “But Paul, does not suffering produce perseverance?”
Yes—but it produces it through revelation, not deprivation.
Through remembering who you are, not through fear of who you might become.
Through anchoring your soul in the hope of glory, not through questioning your standing with God.
Your suffering does not perfect you.
Christ has perfected you.
Your trials do not purify you.
His blood has purified you.
Your hardships do not draw God near.
God is already near, dwelling in you by His Spirit.
Then why, you ask, do we suffer?
Because the world is broken, but you are not.
Creation groans, but your spirit rejoices.
Life presses you, but grace upholds you.
Do not read your pain as divine commentary.
Read it through the lens of the One who suffered in your place and rose to give you life.
Your trials are not messages from God—they are opportunities to rest in the message God has already given:
“You are Mine. You are righteous. You are loved. You are secure.”
So then, beloved, face your hardship not with fear but with confidence:
Not that your suffering will improve you, but that Christ has already completed you.
Not that your trial will define you, but that Christ already has.
Not that God is distant in your pain, but that He is present in you always.
And when you walk through the fire, let this be your assurance:
Christ is in you, and He is enough.
Stand firm in the freedom for which Christ has already made you free.
