March 11
Healing
Through Trials
"It was good for me to suffer. That’s what helped me to understand your orders."
Psalm 119:71 (NIrV)
Kim hated the box of memories collecting dust in her closet. Every time she moved, it came along, untouched and unopened. But on a rainy Saturday, as thunder rattled her small apartment, she decided to face it.
At the top of the pile was an old Bible, its edges worn and the cover scuffed. Her breath caught. She remembered it instantly—given to her by a teacher in sixth grade. It had been part of a program at her public school, where volunteers handed out Bibles. At the time, it had seemed like a strange gesture. Kim hadn’t been religious, and in her chaotic home, it was just another object to toss aside.
Now, staring at the Bible, her emotions surged. It wasn’t just the object—it was the memories it carried. Memories of coming home from school to yelling, of nights spent hiding in her room to escape the storm outside her door. She’d thought she buried those feelings long ago, but they clawed their way back, raw and relentless.
Out of curiosity, she flipped it open. A sticky note marked Psalm 119:71: “It was good for me to suffer. That’s what helped me to understand your orders.” The verse hit her like a punch to the stomach. Good to suffer? How could suffering ever be good? What kind of God would allow a child to endure what she had gone through? She slammed the Bible shut, her hands trembling.
For days, she wrestled with those words. She couldn’t let it go. One evening, after a particularly hard day at work, she sat at her kitchen table with the Bible in front of her. “Why now?” she whispered into the silence. Her voice broke, and tears she hadn’t shed in years spilled over.
In that moment, something shifted. Through her tears, she whispered a shaky prayer, her first ever. “God, I don’t know if You’re there. But if You are, show me. Help me. I’m so tired of carrying this alone.”
What followed wasn’t instant clarity, but it was peace. She began attending a local church, sitting quietly in the back, soaking in the words of sermons and hymns. Slowly, she started to see her suffering differently. It hadn’t defined her—it had prepared her. It made her compassionate to others in pain, empathetic in ways that surprised her.
That Bible, once discarded, became a lifeline. The verse she had loathed became a source of strength. Kim realized God hadn’t abandoned her in her pain. He was waiting, patiently, for her to invite Him into her life.
Prayer:
Lord, thank You for being with us even in our deepest pain.
Help us to see that while suffering is hard, it can bring us closer to You.
Teach us to trust Your plan, even when we don’t understand it.
Thank You for turning brokenness into strength and for reminding us that we are never alone.
Draw us closer to You each day.
In Jesus' name, Amen.
