There is a moment most of us know well: the phone call that changes everything, the diagnosis delivered in a sterile room, the betrayal that arrives from someone we trusted completely. In those moments, the carefully arranged furniture of our inner world is overturned in an instant. And beneath the grief, beneath the shock, a question rises that no amount of distraction can silence—Why? Not just why did this happen? but the deeper, more unsettling question: Does any of this mean anything at all?
A recent piece from Tabletalk Magazine explores precisely this territory with pastoral wisdom and theological depth. Read the source article for a rich treatment of how the study of God’s attributes can become one of the most stabilizing practices a Christian can undertake in seasons of suffering.
The Unbearable Weight of a Meaningless Universe
Suffering, the article rightly observes, is the ultimate test of a worldview. The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche reportedly collapsed mentally after witnessing the flogging of a horse on a Turin street—undone by the irresolvable tension between his nihilistic conviction that nothing ultimately matters and the visceral outrage he felt at witnessing cruelty. His philosophy had no room for moral horror, yet he felt it anyway. The contradiction was too great to bear.
This is not merely a cautionary tale about one philosopher. It is a portrait of every human heart that tries to live as though the universe is indifferent while still feeling, in the marrow of its bones, that injustice is real and that suffering should not be. Scripture names this tension honestly. We were made for a world without death, without mourning, without pain—and something in us still remembers it.
“For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” — Romans 8:20–21
The groaning we feel is not an accident. It is the echo of Eden and the birth pang of a new creation. But to hear it rightly, we need a framework that can hold both the reality of suffering and the reality of meaning—and that framework is found only in the God of Scripture.
What Scripture Says About Suffering and the Human Condition
The Bible does not sanitize suffering. Job—a man described by God Himself as “blameless and upright” (Job 1:8)—loses his children, his health, and his livelihood in rapid succession. His friends arrive with tidy theological explanations that turn out to be wrong. God rebukes them, not Job, for speaking what is not right (Job 42:7). The lesson is sharp: suffering is not always the direct consequence of personal sin, and those who insist it must be are not comforters—they are accusers.
Yet Scripture is equally clear that suffering entered the world through the rebellion of our first parents, and that every human being now lives east of Eden, in a world fractured by sin (Genesis 3:17–19). We are not innocent bystanders to a cosmic accident. We are image-bearers who turned away from the source of all life, and the whole creation has been groaning under that weight ever since.
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” — Romans 3:23
This is the biblical diagnosis: suffering is real, it is not always individually deserved, but it exists within a world that has been broken by human sin and is held, even now, within the sovereign hand of a God who has not abandoned it. Evil is not God’s equal. Even the Leviathan—that fearsome creature the book of Job uses to represent the most terrifying forces of chaos—is the Lord’s creature, subject to His authority (Job 40:25–41:26). Nothing in your suffering is outside His reach.
Jesus Christ: The Answer Suffering Demands
Theism alone can tell us that suffering has meaning. But the gospel of Jesus Christ tells us something far more astonishing: God did not watch our suffering from a safe distance. He entered it.
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” — Hebrews 4:15–16
The Son of God took on human flesh—genuine flesh, capable of hunger, exhaustion, grief, and pain. He wept at the tomb of Lazarus (John 11:35). He sweat drops of blood in Gethsemane. And on the cross, He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)—experiencing, in His human nature, the ultimate suffering: abandonment by the Father, so that those who trust in Him would never have to face that abandonment themselves.
The resurrection is the Father’s declaration that suffering does not have the final word. Death was defeated. The grave was emptied. And the risen Christ now intercedes for His people as the one who has walked through the valley of the shadow of death and come out the other side. He is not a distant sovereign issuing decrees from a throne untouched by pain. He is the Lamb who was slain and who lives forevermore (Revelation 5:12).
Living It Out: Theology as Spiritual Anchor
So how does a Christian actually use theology in the middle of suffering? Job found peace not in receiving an explanation for his ordeal, but in beholding God Himself—His majesty, His wisdom, His works (Job 38–41). The Tabletalk article puts it beautifully: the study of God’s attributes through His works and His Word can be one of the best practices in the face of suffering. Here is how that takes shape in daily discipleship:
1. Meditate on God’s Sovereignty
Nothing in your suffering is outside God’s control. He is not scrambling to respond to what has happened to you. The Westminster Confession of Faith affirms that God “upholds, directs, makes willing, and governs all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest even to the least, by His most wise and holy providence.” That is not a cold comfort—it is the most stabilizing truth available to a suffering soul. “The Lord has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all” (Psalm 103:19).
2. Rest in God’s Justice
Because God is perfectly just, nothing unjust will last forever. Every wrong will be made right. Every tear will be accounted for. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4).
3. Trust God’s Wisdom
What feels gratuitous and arbitrary is, in fact, subject to a wisdom that surpasses our comprehension. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord” (Isaiah 55:8). We do not need to understand the plan to trust the Planner.
4. Bring Your Pain to the Throne
God is omniscient and merciful. He knows every pain, sees every tear, and hears every cry. Prayer is not informing God of something He missed—it is the act of a child running to a Father who already knows and already cares. “Cast all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you” (1 Peter 5:7).
The Gospel: The Only Foundation That Holds
Every human being will face suffering that feels senseless. The question is not whether the storm will come, but what you are standing on when it does. A worldview built on the shifting sands of human optimism or philosophical nihilism will collapse under the weight of real grief. But the gospel of Jesus Christ offers a foundation that cannot be shaken.
We are sinners in need of rescue—not merely comfort, but redemption. Christ came, lived the life we could not live, died the death we deserved, and rose again on the third day, conquering sin and death on behalf of all who trust in Him. His resurrection is the guarantee that suffering is not the end of the story. It is, for those who are in Christ, the beginning of a glory that will make every present pain seem, in the words of the Apostle Paul, “light and momentary” compared to “an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison” (2 Corinthians 4:17).
If you do not yet know this Christ—if you are reading this in the middle of pain that feels utterly meaningless—the invitation of the gospel is open to you today. Repent, believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved (Acts 16:31). He who bore the cross for sinners will not turn away a suffering soul who comes to Him in faith. And in Him, even the darkest valley becomes a road that leads home.
