A few hours ago, I awoke from a dream I felt was a blessing. A man who had deeply influenced our lives for God was handing my husband one red rose, while giving me a small bouquet of white roses. “The pain multiplies the mercy,” he said. 

I pondered the man’s comment as my husband, Randy, and I had our morning devotion. Randy and I have been through some incredibly traumatic, emotional pain the last few years. We dealt with the sudden, unexpected death of a close loved one; we struggled with the pain of someone we love walking away because of our faith; and we fumbled through the ripple effects of it all. The stress had a significant impact on my physical health, as well, and during part of the time I was completely incapacitated.

words + photograph DR. MELISSA SWEARENGIN

After the devotion, I took a walk, listening for guidance from God. I spotted a wild blackberry bush, and the Lord brought to mind a memory. I am 16 years older than my niece, a happy girl who adores my dad and loves my husband. As a young adult, I would go to my brother’s dairy farm. My niece and I would have a delightful time picking wild blackberries in the summer. We would walk the quiet, dusty farm road and fight the briars to get the juicy, sweet fruit we loved to pop into our mouths like popcorn.

I looked again at the wild blackberry bush. A huge poison ivy vine was crawling up some rocks close by it. I felt the Holy Spirit remind me: While pain grows rampant in this fallen world, it is what you grab ahold of that matters.

Just like the poison ivy growing beside the blackberries. Both vines would bring suffering. The allergic reaction from the poison ivy would make me miserable for weeks, and the thorns covering the blackberry vine would bring out the first aid kit.

Yet, the poison ivy caused to me consider, when we grab ahold of wrong things, they dwell in our mind and poison our soul. When we endure trauma or suffering, we are apt to entertain the idea God either does not care or is unable to do anything about our hurting.

The enemy of our soul loves to help us dwell on poison. We can grab ahold of a victim mentality that can become our identity if we allow it. We can focus so much on what has happened to us we never allow God to do a real work of healing in us.

The blackberry vine is different. Yes, the pain of those thorns is real, but so is the fruit produced. Just like the dream reminded me, pain can multiply mercy. When my niece and I carefully picked those berries, we still had some thorns, but we persevered because we knew goodness was coming, perhaps even a blackberry cobbler.

When God allows suffering, pain, trauma, or whatever breaks our hearts, we must choose carefully what we grab ahold of, which makes me think of Jesus teaching about Himself being the “true vine.” 

In this journey, I have been able to grab onto God’s Word and how He assures us adversity will not last forever. When we have a relationship with Christ, we know even the worst situations will be redeemed. Eternity with our Lord still brings hope.

Still, even though my career as a biblical support coach has afforded me many opportunities to see this truth in real lives, it is different when it is happening to me. 

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I had to learn to recognize what was true about God, even in these circumstances.

When the combination of physical and emotional pain was so strong, I felt like David who pictures God being the lifter of his head in Psalm 3. I could not lift my head. My eyes were as downcast as my heart. Yet God reminded me through His Word I had to look up to Him instead of my circumstances, others, or even within myself. I had to learn to recognize my emotions and submit them to Him. I often wanted to let emotions rule rather than the Holy Spirit. I had to learn to recognize what was true about God, even in these circumstances.

“The worst pain of suffering is not simply what happens to us, as horrific as that can be in our fallen world,” writes Robert Kellemen. “The worst pain of suffering is what happens in us as we reflect-on our suffering and as Satan tempts us to doubt God’s good heart — his holiness and love. In his book Gospel-centered Counseling: How Christ Changes Lives, Kellemen points readers to look at the cross for evidence of just how much God loves, cares, and has already been sovereignly working. God sent Jesus, and believers now have the power of the Holy Spirit even inside of us. The Holy Trinity has entered our suffering and trauma and is still working our redemption story. He is neither unloving nor unable.

The steadfast love of the Lord was there even when a loved one turned away from not only me, but God. The Lord’s presence remained when I was physically so ill I could not do anything. I found out He still loves me even if I could do nothing. We base so much on the doing, even though we talk so much about His grace and declare it is not about our own works. Sometimes, we are reminded how we are human beings — not human doings. 

When these things are stripped away and we are at our weakest, we learn a deeper gratitude for His strength. I found out entering suffering with Jesus is an opportunity. If we grab ahold of Him during these times, we learn so much about Him, and we experience His kindness and grace. It is also an opportunity for others to see the difference He makes in our lives. If you find yourself flung into trauma or are in an incredibly excruciating situation, please reach out for God’s love, His good character, and the truth of His promises. Think about how the pain may bring opportunities to not only multiply the mercy in your own life, but reveal opportunities for you to share with others about His mercy. The pain of Christ’s cross multiplied His mercy to all who would grab ahold of it and will continue to multiply as we share our own redemption stories.

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