I love it when I discover years later, the gift wrapped inside the trappings of something painful from my past. I did not always look deeper into life’s more distressing experiences. Instead, I asked, why me? Why this? When is it over? Others received answered prayers, I continued to be denied. My head knew the passage, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways…” (Is 55:8), but in my heart, I felt forgotten by the God I know loves me. Why do your ways, oh Lord, involve my suffering?

I think the problem was that I didn’t understand the nature of God’s love. In my youth, it meant asking nicely and persistently to wear God down. If I tossed in extra prayers, that would sweeten the deal and hopefully speed my solution. We can still think that way. My reasoning during the infertile years centered on why we could not have this good gift. What is wrong with giving us a child when others don’t want them? As time passed, my unique trials were more debilitating, and my prayers still included the why me, phrase?

Amidst trials that envelope our being, we can retreat into survival mode, treading water in the storm and focusing only on our next breath. We don’t see Jesus extending a hand to us, we are focused on the fact that we are drowning. I rarely took the time to pause and consider the more profound meaning of what was happening. That would have required me to be in the present moment and not in the when this is over future.

Fast forward four decades; it is here where time can elucidate. I have clearer hindsight and a greater perspective. Through prayer, reading, and reflection, I’ve gotten a little peek into God’s way of doing things through the trials he sends me.

I could not see then that God was at work in me. I was so focused and consumed by my predicament that I didn’t notice how he was pruning and teaching me. Who would have imagined that thirty years later, I would share some of my most painful moments with hundreds of strangers through marriage preparation classes every year? Our vulnerability and honest sharing have impacted so many. God knew how he would bring good out of my temporary infertility and subsequent miracle at Lourdes.

When I cracked my head while ice skating in 2020 during the COVID shutdown, I spent nine days alone in ICU. Upon learning that I required brain surgery to stop the bleeding, I had to fight with the hospital to allow a priest to administer the Anointing of the Sick. Again, I asked God why so much resistance to a good thing. Within three months, I had my answer. A friend called, desperate for help, her dying father needed to be anointed in a local hospital. She had no idea what I had gone through months earlier, yet God led her to me as I encouraged and helped her navigate the many obstacles presented by the hospital. Her father died peacefully two days after receiving the anointing and my previous frustrating experience was turned into joy.

We never know what good God does with the trials we undergo. I could fill pages with such examples. It is miraculous when you think about it. God can use our suffering for good when we willingly unite it to the Passion of His Son. God then allows us the honor of consoling others amidst their trials.

Fr. Frankie Cicero, a priest in the Diocese of Phoenix, has a feature on Hallow called Daily Minute. Father mediates on Scripture and talks soothingly as if Jesus Himself is speaking. This reflection is helpful,

“There will be times in your life when I will call you out into the water to take steps and leaps of faith to follow me and to trust me. Sometimes, when you take those first steps, the winds and waves rise, and quickly, your focus turns to everything around you. Where once there was faith and courage, now doubts and fears flood your heart. True safety and security will always be with me, for I will take care of you. If I call you onto the water, I am calling you to myself. Return your focus to me. It is I who calls you. It is I who am with you. It is I who strengthens you. Call out my name.”

It is Jesus who makes all things new and generates miracles. He is with us now, in the present moment, call out to Him. St. Paul who dealt with untold hardships reminds us, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” (Phil 4:13) These are not words of a slick marketing campaign to appease us while suffering. They are a reminder that in the present moment, when it is most difficult to go forward, Christ is your strength.

For over a year, both of my shoulders were frozen, and any attempt to move them was excruciating. Sleep was nearly impossible in any position. I’d pass the hours in the night watching live adoration on EWTN. I love the site in Niepokalanowa, Poland, where the Eucharist forms the heart of the Virgin Mary. Through the hours, I would virtually adore as people would come and go. It brought me strength in my weakest moments. Jesus spoke to my heart with the phrase, “Eyes on Me.” 

 When we take our eyes off the Lord, we sink like Peter, and our trials overwhelm us. By keeping our eyes focused on Jesus, we make Him present to us. Storms don’t last forever. Trust that your loving Father is doing something good through them. This trial He asks of you, is your unique gift back to Him.