Suffering is a reality in this fallen world. This is just a simple statement of fact, however uncomfortable and confusing. Yet asking “why” will only lead us in circles, since there’s not a single explanation that will be adequate enough to satisfy all people. Many theologians have tackled this issue in amazing ways (St. Paul and St. Thomas Aquinas, to name but a few), yet still the question understandably persists in the minds and hearts of most people around the globe.
Instead of asking why, perhaps it will be more productive to reframe our question. Rather than why, let’s ask ourselves something deeper.
“What am I doing with my suffering?”
Our Blessed Mother knew sorrow and suffering. Her life was filled with it. This might seem a surprising thing to say about the mother of God, blessed among women, whom all generations call blessed. Yet it’s true.
Mary’s sorrows began even before the prophet Simeon predicted a sword piercing her heart (Luke 2:35). What young girl wouldn’t feel terrified as her whole future was ripped out from under her, her sense of safety crumbling beneath her at the wondrous yet daunting promise from angel Gabriel? Yes, she was blessed among women and yes, the Holy Spirit had designated her as spouse, because she was to become the Mother of God. But, as we all know, being chosen by God doesn’t equate to a luxurious life.
“Then Pilate took Jesus and scourged him. And the soldiers plaited a crown of thorns, and put it on his head and clothed in a purple robe; they came up to him, saying ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ and struck him with their hands.”
(John 19:1-3)
To be unwed and pregnant in ancient Israel was a life-threatening situation, and would require enormous changes and immense challenges. Mary—without sin—was filled with the grace of God’s peace, yet that doesn’t mean she was devoid of human emotion. She felt everything common to human beings—perhaps, in her enlightened state, even more acutely than others. After all, Christ Himself felt the grief of losing a loved one (John 11:35), the sting of loneliness (Matt. 26:40), and the mental agony of desolation (Matt. 26:38, 27:46).
The feelings themselves don’t indicate a failure in faith or even character, they just make us human. It’s what we do with our tragedies and sufferings that becomes the game-changer in our lives.
As early as the sixth century, Syrian poet-theologian Jacob of Serugh (ca. 451-421) described the sorrows of Mary in his sermon, De Transitu. The Servites of Mary—a mendicant order founded in 1234—held a special devotion to Mary’s sorrows. Just years after St. Dominic’s divinely-inspired vision that instituted the practice of praying the rosary as we know it today, the Servites began their own rosary devotion based on what is now known as the Seven Sorrows of Mary.
1. Simeon’s prophecy (Luke 2:35)
2. Flight into Egypt (Matt. 2:13-14)
3. Loss of Jesus in the Temple (Luke 2:43-48)
4. Mary meets Jesus on His way to Golgotha (John 19:17)
5. Standing at the foot of the cross and Jesus’ death (John 19:25-30)
6. Jesus is taken down from the Cross and laid in Mary’s arms (John 19:38)
7. Assisting at her Son’s burial (Luke 23:55-56)
The feast of Our Lady of Sorrows is September 15.
What can we learn from our Blessed Mother, from her willingness to undergo these trials for the sake of introducing us all to her Son, the Messiah? What can we learn from her grace of maintaining a joy-filled life of faith in Christ even as she struggled against the tragedies and injustices in the world?
Despite immense suffering, sorrow, and tribulations, our heavenly Mother didn’t give in to despair, hopelessness, or self-pity.
And, as simple as it seems, that’s the lesson.
We’ll all experience tragic hurts in life. It’s inevitable. Suffering happens, and it won’t be a one-off event. God never promised we wouldn’t have trials and even traumas—but He has promised to walk with us during these difficult times. We have to allow His graces to flow into us, we have to open ourselves to His peace (John 14:27).
It’s what we do with our trials that make the difference in our lives.
Redemptive suffering means we allow our most difficult experiences to strengthen us, that we open ourselves to receiving the immense graces God will bestow on us for every trial we endure. Redemptive suffering is the ability to learn, in humility and peace, what each situation is trying to teach us. Redemptive suffering is the ability to find God’s grace in all things, to embrace and welcome it, and not to hide from difficult times in life.
Useless suffering takes on a stance of defeat and self-pity. In desolation, we find no hope in our circumstances, and wallow in the painful, uncomfortable, or excruciating feelings. Useless suffering serves no purpose other than making us miserable and creating a rift in our personal and spiritual lives. The feeling of the presence of God fades, to be replaced with a focus on what seems to be the hopelessness of our situation.
The choice is ours.
As I said, suffering is inevitable. What isn’t inevitable is hopelessness and heart-sinking despair. With the Blessed Mother, we can walk the path to hope-filled freedom as we journey toward the quenching waters of her Son.
It takes time and self-patience to reach this level of healing, though. When a person has undergone extreme trauma, it’s natural to feel as if all is lost, or as if our lives won’t ever be the same again.
Truthfully, they won’t. Life changes our lives.
But it doesn’t have to change us for the worse.
We can grow from each situation—as long as we’re open to growth. Again, this won’t happen spontaneously or automatically—but through prayer, the grace and peace of God, the restorative power of the Sacraments, and the nurturing example of our Blessed Mother—the healing journey can be the most rewarding experience of our lives.
If not for the Cross, there would be no glorious Resurrection, and the Holy Spirit wouldn’t have descended to bless us all.
“I will not leave you desolate; I will come to you … The Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”
(John 14:18,26-27)
Again, suffering happens. We all know this to be true, and there’s not a single explanation that will be adequate enough to satisfy all people.
Instead, we must ask ourselves a reformulated question: “What am I doing with my suffering?”
That, my friends, makes all the difference. Not only in your world, but in the world at large.

Are you allowing your suffering to sink you into the traps of doubt and despair, hopelessness and confusion? Or are you instead realizing that somewhere, through all the tremendous pain, there are many strengths to be gained and multiple graces to be received—and perhaps even shared with others?
A Prayer for All:
Mary, Mother of our Lord, I beseech your intercession. Please teach me how to suffer. I can’t do this alone. I feel sunk in the hollow of despair. Please teach me to walk your path, which is the path of your most holy Son. Teach me to love as you love; to live as you live. Hold me as I stand at the foot of His cross with you. Wrap me in your mantle. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.
There were troubling times in my life when I felt/knew Jesus was walking hand and hand with me through it all. He didn't take the troubles away. He walked with me, and I felt safe and loved through it all and hope was there. I won't claim I have always felt His loving presence, but when I didn't its becaused I blocked it by not being open to the Lord. He never fails us. We just block what Jesus doing for us.
I sometimes struggle in faith when I suffer. It's hard to understand how God can allow some kinds of suffering in our lives. In the end, however, the only way to suffer is to still cling on to God. With God, we don't suffer in vain. With God, we still find hope.