How Do You Prepare For Suffering?

Since my post a few weeks ago, I’ve been thinking about the idea of being “coddled” and how we as believers are tangibly supposed to respond to that reality. In a sense, how do we become “un-coddled”? How do we prepare well for suffering and have a foundation that can withstand it? I didn’t address that in my last post because, to be honest, I’m not 100 percent sure. I don’t think you can “prepare well enough” for suffering. You can’t manufacture it and I wouldn’t want to. But, there has to be a way that we, as the Church, can equip each other to not be bitter and lost when suffering hits.

I recently rewatched all of the Lord of the Rings movies. As I watched, I couldn’t help but notice the difference between Frodo and Aragorn in the scene where Gandalf falls into the pit to fight the Balrog. (Yes, I just googled, “demon thing Gandalf fought”). When he falls into the pit, Frodo is completely distraught, weeping, and helpless. Aragorn, on the other hand, is visibly upset but also understands Gandalf's sacrifice and knows that he needs to continue the journey. In that scene, I thought, “that is the difference between a coddled person and a person who knows the cost of the journey.”

Frodo had never experienced the pain of death and suffering and was ill prepared to handle it. He was from the Shire for crying out loud! How could he have known? Aragorn on the other hand knew. He understood the cost and was able to direct the crew right after, and in the middle of, heavy grief. I do want to be clear that I am in no way saying that in our grief we are not allowed to respond how we need to. Grief is messy and unpredictable. What I am trying to navigate in this conversation, however, is how do we not quit as a result of grief? How do we continue on the narrow path when suffering threatens to take us out of the game? We may need to spend some time on the sidelines, but how do we take care of ourselves, get back up, and continue on instead of resigning and turning around?

As I’ve said, I didn’t address this because I’m not really sure what a good response is. I do have a few thoughts, however, that might get the conversation started. First, I think suffering is, unfortunately, the greatest teacher. I don’t know that there is a better way to learn to trust the Father and cling to him in grief than suffering itself. God's presence with us in suffering and his hand holding us in grief is one of the hardest and most intimate places to be as his kids. I wish we could learn by an easier path, but just like Frodo, who became a hero as the journey went on, the quickest and most effective teacher is usually the journey itself. It’s the ups and downs that produce a dependance on the goodness of God.

Secondly, I wonder what the effect would be of sending rangers like Aragorn, who have known suffering, to teach and equip the hobbits of the Shire. It is, of course, a lesser teacher than personal experience but it has the potential to open up another world to people who have only experienced life in the Shire. Could we, as the Church, be brave enough to unveil the horrors of the world and discuss them in light of God’s sovereignty? Do we trust the Spirit of God enough to unleash the can of worms that is God's sovereign goodness and the presence of evil in the world? Can we, as sacred holders of the Word of Life, search the Scriptures, believe for divine wisdom, and teach the truths that will become the rock that we stand on in suffering? We may not get it right - and, you know what, we probably won’t - but we must attempt.

Above all, I believe the best and surest way to prepare for suffering (and the place that I will always land), is investing in deep relationship with the Father. We probably won’t have the perfect training or the perfect theology (though it is worth the attempt) what we do have is a perfect Father. If we invest our lives in intimacy with him and disciple the same, he is faithful to keep us. It’s really hard to walk away from someone you actually deeply love. Intimacy with Jesus is the one thing that matters. It’s the house on the rock. It’s the treasure in the field. It’s the pearl of great price. It’s the garden path.