The Gift We Never Ask For: Why Pain Is Essential

One of the great paradoxes of the Christian life is that God often uses the very things we try so desperately to avoid to grow in us the very things that we desire: We instinctively recoil at pain, yet Scripture consistently reveals that pain is not the enemy of joy but the soil in which true joy is cultivated.

This is not because God delights in our suffering. Scripture is clear: “He does not willingly afflict or grieve the children of men” (Lamentations 3:33). But like a master gardener, He knows that certain fruits only grow through the breaking of the soil.

Pain Is the Refiner of Faith

Throughout Scripture, God uses painful seasons to reveal the authenticity of faith and to purify it. Peter writes:

“You have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith… may be found to result in praise and glory and honor.”
— 1 Peter 1:6–7

Pain doesn’t create faith, but it reveals what our faith is built upon.
It exposes the cracks in our self-sufficiency and forces us to cling to God rather than our own strength.

Abraham learned trust on a mountain of sacrifice.
Moses learned humility in the wilderness.
David learned dependence in the cave.
Paul learned grace in the thorn.

No hero of faith was shaped without pain, because without pain, spiritual maturity remains theoretical.

Pain Teaches Us to Long for God, Not Merely His Gifts

When life is easy, we often mistake God’s gifts for God Himself.
Comfort can become a counterfeit savior. Blessings can become functional idols.

I’m reminded of a scene from a movie I watched years ago — a conversation between a man named Mark and an older woman. It stuck with me because of how honest and unsettling it was.

• Mark: You prayed and believed your whole life. Never done anything wrong. And here you are. You're the nicest person I know. I am the meanest. You have dementia. My life is perfect. Explain that to me!

• Old Woman: Sometimes the devil allows people to live a life free of trouble because he doesn't want them turning to God. Their sin is like a jail cell, except it is all nice and comfy and there doesn't seem to be any reason to leave. The door's wide open. Till one day, time runs out, and the cell door slams shut, and suddenly it's too late.

Pain strips away our illusions of control and reminds us that our deepest need is not a change in circumstance — it is the presence of God Himself.

This is why the psalmist can say:

“Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep Your word.”
— Psalm 119:67

Affliction becomes a strange mercy: it redirects wandering hearts back to the Shepherd.

Joy Without Pain Is Not Joy — It’s Innocence

We often speak as though joy could exist in a vacuum, untouched by sorrow. But joy that has never walked through pain is not yet joy — it is naivety. Innocence is beautiful, but it is shallow. Adam experienced innocence in Eden, but Christ experienced joy after the cross.

Hebrews makes this connection unmistakable:

“For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross…”
— Hebrews 12:2

There is a kind of joy found only on the other side of endurance.
A joy anchored in redemption.
A joy strengthened by scars.
A joy that knows what it cost to be made whole.

This is why Christians can speak of “the joy of salvation.”
Joy is deepened by recognizing the darkness Christ rescued us from.
The redeemed sing louder because they have known bondage.

Pain Makes Joy Legible

Just as light is more precious after a long night, joy becomes more meaningful after grief. If we never knew tears, how would we understand the promise that God “will wipe away every tear from their eyes”? If we never knew loss, how would resurrection hope thrill the soul?

Pain does not diminish joy — it defines it.
It carves out the reservoir in our hearts where joy can settle and overflow.

C.S. Lewis once wrote that joy is “the serious business of heaven.” But heaven’s joy is profound precisely because it exists on the far side of suffering. Every Christian who walks through sorrow in this life is being prepared for that kind of joy — the durable, eternal kind.

Pain Opens the Door to Christlike Love

Suffering not only shapes us — it softens us. It teaches compassion for others. Those who have never walked through sorrow struggle to truly comfort the sorrowing. But those who have felt the weight of their own weakness become conduits of Christ’s gentleness.

Paul says it this way:

“We comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.”
— 2 Corinthians 1:4

Pain equips us to love like Jesus — with patience, tenderness, and understanding.

God Never Wastes Pain

Perhaps the most hopeful truth in all of Scripture is that God is incapable of wasting anything surrendered to Him. What feels pointless to us is purposeful to Him. What feels heavy to us is holy to Him. He works through every tear, every delay, every disappointment.

Joseph learned this when he said to his brothers, “You meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.”
Paul learned this when he declared that “all things work together for good.”
Christ proved this when death itself was transformed into resurrection.

The cross — the worst pain in human history — became the source of the world’s greatest joy.

If God can redeem that, He can redeem anything.

Joy Is Born Through Surrender, Not Escape

Christians do not seek suffering, but we also do not fear it — because we know who walks with us through it. Joy is not found by escaping pain, nor by pretending it doesn't exist. Joy is found by offering our pain to the One who carried His own cross and promises resurrection on the other side.

Pain shapes us.
Pain grows us.
Pain deepens us.
Pain drives us toward God.

And joy — true, durable, everlasting joy — is the gift that blooms in the soil watered by tears.