What If Suffering Is Where Strength Begins
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." — James 1:2-3
If we're honest, most of us spend our lives praying for strength while hoping we'll never have to suffer. We ask God to make us courageous, resilient, and faithful, but we also ask Him to keep us comfortable. The problem is that Scripture paints a very different picture. Again and again, we see God using suffering—not because He delights in our pain, but because He knows it produces something that comfort never can.
In this episode of Kingdom Chaos, I sat down with my friend Sean, whose story challenged me in ways I wasn't expecting. Sean isn't speaking from the other side of suffering. He isn't sharing a testimony after everything has been resolved. He's living it right now. As a former SWAT officer, professional MMA fighter, and ministry leader with Mighty Oaks, Sean spent most of his life being the strong one. Then, almost overnight, everything changed.
After receiving multiple rounds of powerful antibiotics following a hand injury and later a severe infection, Sean's health began to decline dramatically. His body slowly stopped functioning the way it should. Food began making him violently ill. He lost nearly fifty pounds. Doctors couldn't provide clear answers despite countless tests, specialists, and treatments. His body simply continued to weaken. As we talked, he openly admitted something few people have the courage to say out loud—he isn't sure if he'll recover. He isn't sure if he'll live. Yet even in that uncertainty, his faith hasn't disappeared.
One of the first questions I asked him was what his conversations with God looked like behind closed doors. Most of us assume someone facing a life-threatening illness must constantly ask, "Why me?" Surprisingly, Sean said that wasn't where his heart naturally went. Instead, his prayers began with one simple request: "God, heal me." Every day he still asks God for healing. But over time, those prayers have matured into something deeper. He described living in the tension between believing God is fully capable of healing him while also trusting God's sovereignty if healing doesn't come the way he hopes. That tension isn't easy, but it's where real faith often grows.
Something Sean said has stayed with me ever since we recorded this conversation. He explained that he's spent his entire life learning how to fight. As a police officer, SWAT operator, martial artist, and professional fighter, battling adversity came naturally to him. But now God is teaching him something entirely different. He's learning how to suffer well.
That statement stopped me in my tracks.
We spend so much of our lives trying to avoid suffering that we rarely ask what God might want to teach us through it. Sean pointed to Jesus and reminded me that while Christ was mentally and spiritually strong, He willingly endured physical weakness. By the time Jesus carried His cross to Calvary, His body had been beaten, bruised, and exhausted. Sean said his picture of carrying his cross has completely changed. He once imagined himself carrying it with physical strength and determination. Now he sees himself carrying it while weak, hurting, and barely able to take another step—but continuing forward anyway. That's a picture of strength our culture rarely celebrates.
As we continued talking, I asked Sean how he developed the kind of faith that could sustain him through a season like this. His answer wasn't a secret formula or dramatic spiritual experience. It was community, Scripture, and years of faithfully walking with Christ before the suffering ever arrived. He talked about men who invested in him, his wife Delyn's unwavering faith, and learning what biblical manhood really looked like by studying the life of Jesus. Long before this illness ever came, God had already been building the foundation that now supports him during the storm. It reminded me that we don't build our faith during the crisis—we build it beforehand. The crisis simply reveals the foundation we've already been laying.
One of the most emotional parts of our conversation came when Sean described what this illness has cost him as a husband and father. He told me he grieves the man he used to be every single day. He can no longer play with his children the way he once did. Simple household chores leave him exhausted. A shower can drain his energy. The strong, capable man he once identified as is gone. Yet in the middle of grieving who he used to be, he also sees God creating someone entirely new.
His wife often tells him, "The suffering isn't for you. It's just on you."
I love that perspective because it shifts the focus from asking, "Why is this happening to me?" to asking, "How is God going to use this?" Sean shared story after story of how his suffering has already impacted others. His young children now pray with a depth they never had before. His son kneels beside him to pray without anyone asking him to. Nurses have come to Christ after hearing Sean share the gospel during medical appointments. More people have prayed with him over the last year than in the previous decade combined. None of those things remove the pain, but they remind him that God is still working through it.
Our conversation eventually turned toward strength, and I asked Sean how God has redefined it for him. He smiled and admitted that for most of his life, strength meant lifting heavy weights, fighting opponents, running into danger, and handling problems on his own. Today, strength means something entirely different. True strength isn't found in physical ability. It's found in complete dependence on God. Courage isn't simply charging into battle anymore. Courage is choosing obedience when life feels unbearable. Courage is waking up another day, trusting God when your circumstances haven't changed, and continuing to take one faithful step forward.
Sean also spoke openly about something many Christians are afraid to admit. There have been moments when he has wrestled with dark thoughts. The pain has been so overwhelming that he's wondered if everyone else would be better off without him. But he quickly recognized those thoughts for what they are—lies. He realized that giving up wouldn't remove suffering; it would simply transfer that suffering to the people he loves most. That honesty reminded me how important it is for us to talk openly about pain instead of pretending it doesn't exist. Faith isn't denying our struggles. Faith is bringing those struggles honestly before God.
Toward the end of the episode, I asked Sean what he hopes his children remember years from now. His answer wasn't about accomplishments, championships, or professional success. He simply said he hopes they remember that their dad loved Jesus, fought faithfully through suffering, and always pointed them toward Christ. Whether God heals him on this side of eternity or not, that's the legacy he wants to leave. I can't think of a more powerful testimony than that.
Before we finished recording, Sean shared one final lesson that every believer needs to hear.
Community is not optional.
He talked about the friends who carried the paralyzed man to Jesus by tearing open a roof, and about Aaron and Hur holding up Moses' arms when he grew too tired to continue. Sean said we all need "roof breakers" and "arm raisers" in our lives—people who refuse to let us walk through suffering alone. For years he had been the one carrying others. Now, for the first time, he has had to let others carry him. That kind of humility may be one of the greatest acts of faith any of us will ever experience.
As I reflect on this conversation, one question continues to challenge me:
What if the strength we're praying for can only be developed through the suffering we're trying so hard to avoid?
I don't believe God wastes pain. I don't believe suffering is meaningless. While I'll never pretend to understand every reason behind it, I do know this: some of the deepest intimacy we'll ever experience with Christ is found in the valleys, not on the mountaintops.
If you're walking through a season of pain today, don't suffer alone.
Lean into God's promises.
Lean into His people.
And remember that true strength isn't found in never breaking.
It's found in continuing to trust the One who never will.
