There is so much suffering on this spinning blue ball.

Brutality. Betrayal. Infidelity. War. Illness that strips ability. Death and the wave of destruction it sometimes leaves. An assault on the mind or body or spirit. The pain of bearing witness to a child who veers off course in her own unfortunate way.

What’s the point of this suffering, especially when it happens to one of the good ones? Why doesn’t it happen to the shooter planning carnage?

I grapple with this question, especially at times when some of those I love face life’s most trying circumstances. I wish I had an answer to the why of suffering. I don’t. I’m not even sure there is a why.

But I do know one thing. Suffering is a battle cry, calling us to join in and do something, to rally around those who stand squarely before one of life’s brutal curve balls.

For several decades, my relative in Canada has been suffering from, not one, but three extremely painful conditions. I have stood beside her in it, held her hand as she cried through it, visited, called, and sent cards. I found doctors and medicines and alternative therapies for her. And we prayed. And prayed. And prayed. Faithfully. Diligently. With full belief in God’s power to change this. To heal. To show what faith can bring.

But it never happened. And I, as a witness and hand holder through her suffering, could not understand.

After I hung up the phone one particularly brutal day for her, I’d had enough.

“Why?” I demanded, angry and frustrated at God. “Why won’t You do something? You see her barely enduring days of excruciating pain. You know she’s missing out on life. We ask and we believe, and we ask, and we ask, and we ask… still believing. And nothing. Why won’t you do something? What is the point of all this suffering?”

The anger, frustration, disappointment, and confusion poured down my cheeks. I stood, wondering. Why? Why?

Then I heard something sure and clear:

Suffering is our call to rally together, to support, to be the best of what you were created to be. To love one another. You must rally.

It wasn’t an answer to the why of suffering. It was a call to action in the midst of it. Even if we can’t do something to alleviate the suffering, we can be there. And sometimes, that is all.

But this standing with someone in their hardship requires us to endure, too. It’s difficult to watch someone we love suffer, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually. It’s difficult to willingly share in that, to see them drown in their pain and to feel helpless, unable to do something. To make it better. It makes some bystanders squirm. Others shift their eyes and look away. Some leave. But all are called to stay.

I believe that suffering is, in essence, the imploring of bystanders to take action. Life’s hardest circumstances are our opportunity to do good, to roll up our sleeves and get in the trenches with those who are battling hard things. It is our chance to be a chaperone through pain, a hand holder, an anchor, a gentle voice, a helper. Love, in its most real and pure sense.

If you are facing the storm on your own, we stand with you here, to love and encourage you in whatever way we can. I offer more of this on Facebook and Insta so come be with us there, too.

And if you are a bystander, find the compassion to rally, to hold someone’s hand and be a steadying force, to be brave and heed the call of suffering. May you be the blessed hand holder who stays. And, in doing so, perhaps you become, in a way, the answer to the prayer.