The Purpose of Pain: Where God Meets Us

Society works tirelessly to avoid discomfort, censoring what might “trigger” others. But triggers are not the problem—they are invitations to grow. They force us to confront unhealed wounds and blind spots.

Avoiding triggers stunts understanding and transformation, both individually and collectively. Growth isn’t safe or easy; it’s uncomfortable and raw. But facing triggers with courage unlocks the possibility of change.

The natural instinct is to avoid pain, but true growth requires that we sit with our darkness. Projecting pain onto others or numbing it only creates more chaos.

By feeling the full depth of grief, fear, or betrayal, we begin to understand and integrate it. This process grows our compassion for ourselves and others, allowing us to help others through their own struggles and contribute meaningfully to the world.

We often associate God with joy and light, but it’s in the fullness of pain that we feel Him most deeply. In our tears and cries for understanding, God meets us—not as a distant observer but as an active presence in our breaking and healing.

These moments of vulnerability strip us down to our rawest selves, creating a connection with the divine that transcends words. Through pain, God experiences life with us, and we with Him.

Pain is neither a curse nor a mistake—it is the force that refines us. Like fire strengthens steel, hardship tempers our character. But this transformation requires courage.

By resisting pain, we delay its lessons. By embracing it, we allow it to shape us into something truer and more whole. These moments of breaking are not the end; they are the beginning of renewal and growth if we let them.

By sitting with our pain instead of projecting it onto others, we develop empathy not just for ourselves but for those around us. This empathy allows us to walk with others through their darkest moments.

Pain teaches us how to show up, not with empty platitudes, but with the depth of someone who has been there. In this way, our struggles become not just personal transformations but tools for collective healing.

The worth of life isn’t found in avoiding pain but in what we create from it. It’s found in the gratitude we feel for simply being alive, scars and all. To live is to be broken and rebuilt, to feel deeply, and to transform through those feelings.

This is the beauty of being human: that even in the darkest moments, we can find meaning, love, and connection, both with ourselves and with something greater than us.