Romans 5:3-5 “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Have you ever walked through a season that felt like it was breaking you? Maybe you’re carrying heartbreak, grieving a loss, battling anxiety, or waiting on something that feels like it will never come. Maybe life just feels heavy, confusing, or unfair right now. I’ve been there. I used to think rejoicing in suffering was impossible. How could pain and joy ever coexist? But Romans 5:3–5 tells a different story. It reminds us that there is purpose in the pain, growth through endurance, and a hope that never disappoints.

In August 2019, during my senior year of college, my life changed in an instant. I had a seizure out of nowhere. I was a healthy student-athlete with no prior health issues, so this came as a complete shock. After an MRI scan, my doctor called with news that changed everything. They had found a tumor on the left side of my temporal lobe. I was confused, sad, angry, and filled with fear.

I was immediately put on seizure medication and went back to school to finish out my senior year like nothing had happened. School was extremely difficult, and I was trying to navigate through my new “normal”. The seizures continued, and the medication wasn’t enough to control them. It was scary, frustrating, and deeply isolating.

Over time, I pressed into the Lord like I never had before. My days were filled with Christian books, podcasts, worship music, and the word of God. His presence in my life became so obvious and He revealed that this season wasn’t meaningless. I couldn’t completely understand it yet, but the more I sought the Kingdom, the more I knew He was doing something in me.

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24 This verse became an anchor in my everyday life: During that season, I was living in the unknown, but I came to learn that each day was a gift, a day the Lord had made. I chose happiness every single morning and I decided I wasn’t going to waste my time worrying about when the next seizure might come. Instead, I was going to rejoice, knowing that He was in control. And if a seizure did happen, I trusted that He had allowed it and that it was part of His plan.

I don’t know what you’re walking through right now, what your storm looks like, but I can promise you that your pain has a purpose. It’s not meaningless or random because God uses the hardest seasons to shape us into who we were called to be, and He is with you every step of the way, providing you with everything you need to endure.

In October 2020, my family and I decided I would have brain surgery on February 11th, 2021, to remove the tumor, hoping the seizures would stop. I was terrified, but I also felt an unexplainable peace that this was the right decision. From October to February leading up to the surgery, I continued to seek the Kingdom. It didn’t make the tears disappear, there were still some really hard days, but I was also filled with joy. A joy that only God could have given me.

The day of my surgery had arrived and as I was being rolled away, I saw the sunrise over the whole city of Chicago. I’ve always felt God’s presence most in sunrises and sunsets, and in that moment, I knew He was there with me. It felt like He had painted that one just for me, a reminder that I wasn’t alone. His peace washed over me in a way I can’t fully explain. I smiled, because I knew it was Him, and I knew I was going to be okay. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” Psalm 23:4

The surgery was successful. The doctors removed the tumor, and by the grace of God, I haven’t had a single seizure since. The healing wasn’t just physical, it was spiritual, emotional, and deeply personal. Through that journey, I learned that faith doesn’t mean life will be easy. It means trusting His plan when you can’t see the outcome. Every day became an opportunity to keep showing up and believing that God was still good, even in the suffering.

This trial revealed what was really inside me, and God began transforming my heart. My faith became genuine. It was no longer based on what I could see or control, but on who God is. Character is formed in the fire, not in the calm. And though I would have never chosen this path, I began to thank God for using it to make me more like Him.

Looking back, I am extremely grateful for that season of suffering. Sounds crazy, I know. But what God did inside of me, changed my life completely, in the best way possible. I live my life very differently than I did 6 years ago and that is great news. I have seen the goodness of God, and I truly believe with my whole heart no matter what comes my way, God allowed it. He doesn’t make mistakes, and He doesn’t forget about us. So, if He allowed it, I know it is all part of His bigger plan and His plan is always perfect. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28

True hope doesn’t come from circumstances; it comes from God Himself. This kind of hope doesn’t disappoint because it’s anchored in who God is, not in what life looks like. I was once filled with confusion, sadness, anger, and fear, yet God turned those emotions into gratitude, joy, and a peace that surpassed all understanding.

If you’re walking through something heavy right now, know this: God is not absent in your pain. He is present in it, and your suffering is not wasted. Let Him work in the waiting and use this time to strengthen your faith. He is a God that turns pain into purpose, fear into faith, and waiting into worship. Even in the middle of suffering, He is faithful, and His love will never leave you. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Reflection Question: What if your current trial isn’t breaking you, but building you? How might that change the way you walk through it?