Holy in the Hurt: Becoming Light in the Darkest Places

Church is a beautiful place—a community of believers, a hospital for the hurting, a sanctuary for the weary, a family for the lonely. We go there seeking friendships with like-minded people, to ask for prayer, to be counseled, to learn, to teach, to let go, to heal, to rise again. It’s a place full of hope, worship, light… and yet, we rarely talk about the dark valleys we all eventually walk through.

Suffering.

Not just enduring it—but doing it with honor. You won’t find many sermons titled “How to Suffer Well.” But maybe we should. Because the truth is, suffering will come. Jesus told us:

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33

So why do we treat it like a surprise?

We ask, Why me? instead of How can God be glorified in this? We say, This isn’t fair,  when Heaven says, This is refining.

When you gave your life to Christ, you didn’t just sign up for blessings—

you laid yourself on the altar.

Your life became a living sacrifice (Romans 12:1).

So why, when suffering hits, do we try to take our life back?

Suffering doesn’t mean God has left you.

“But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed.” – 1 Peter 4:13

There is glory in the suffering. Not because the pain is good—but because God is good in it. When you suffer and still serve…When you hurt and still love…When you’re overwhelmed but still choose to reach for others…

That’s holy.

That’s Jesus in you.

Can You Suffer and Still Love?

Yes. In fact, love becomes more real in suffering. Pain makes you slower to judge, quicker to forgive. It makes you more grateful, more gentle, more aware that behind every polished surface is a soul fighting unseen battles.

“Weep with those who weep.” – Romans 12:15“

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.” – Galatians 6:2

When you’ve walked through the fire, you recognize the heat in someone else’s eyes. And the love you offer in your own weakness carries a weight that no polished perfection ever could.

Even those who are hard to love—the proud, the sharp-tongued, the arrogant—they are desperately loved by God. And if they’re in your path while you’re in pain, that’s no accident.

“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven…” – Matthew 5:44-45

You don’t get a pass from loving just because you’re hurting. That’s the paradox of Christ: when the cross got heavier, His love got deeper.

Why Do We Suffer?

Sometimes it’s discipline. Sometimes it’s the brokenness of the world. Sometimes it’s to produce something eternal in us:

“For our light and momentary afflictions are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” – 2 Corinthians 4:17

There is purpose in the pressure. God is not wasting one second of your pain. He is building character, faith, perseverance, and a testimony that silences hell itself.

How Do We Suffer With Honor?

• We don’t let pain turn us inward—we keep loving outward.

• We don’t use suffering as an excuse—we let it be an offering.

• We don’t shut down—we show up, even if we’re limping.

“Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him.” – Job 13:15“

Let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.” – 1 Peter 4:19

Your suffering can still carry a song. Your darkness can still reflect His light. Your weakness can still become someone else’s hope.

So what will you do when the sun stops shining on your path? When the rug is pulled out and the shadows press in?

You dig deeper. You shine brighter. You worship harder.

Because your praise in the pain proves who really owns your heart.

To suffer well is not to suffer silently—it’s to suffer sacrificially. Jesus didn’t carry His cross to prove how strong He was. He carried it to His death so that others could live. And when He calls us to take up our own cross (Luke 9:23), He’s not talking about momentary hardship or inconvenience. He’s inviting us into the dying of self, the laying down of pride, and the surrendering of our comfort, our plans, and even our pain—for His glory and for the good of others.

To carry our cross means we stop trying to escape the hard places and instead ask, “Lord, how can You be lifted high here—even in this?” For the true believer, the cross isn’t just what saved us—it’s what shapes us. And we carry it not to earn salvation but to walk in the footsteps of the One who endured it all, and still said, “Father, forgive them.”

It’s unfortunate—and heartbreaking—that the gospel of Christ has been watered down in our time. In too many places, it’s been reduced to a slogan for comfort, material gain, and personal success. We’ve traded the suffering Servant for a spotlighted influencer. We’ve replaced self-denial with self-promotion. Instead of taking up our cross, we chase crowns we were never meant to wear.

But Jesus didn’t come to compete—He came to serve. He didn’t boast—He bowed. He didn’t demand attention—He washed feet (John 13:14-15). And when He said follow Me, He wasn’t offering an easy path—He was offering eternal purpose through dying daily to ourselves (Luke 9:23).

We must ask ourselves: Can we even recognize Jesus in us anymore?

We want the easy life. And yes, there are beautiful, grace-filled seasons where the sun shines, where laughter fills the room, and prayers are answered in full bloom. But those seasons change. For everyone. And it’s in the harder ones that our faith is proved—not just to the world, but to ourselves.

So when the path narrows and the cross feels heavier, don’t despise it. Jesus didn’t. He carried His with blood in His eyes and love in His heart—for us. And now, when He calls us to carry ours, it’s not as punishment—it’s as a partnership. Suffering becomes sacred when it’s offered in surrender. Pain becomes purpose when it’s poured out in love.

This gospel was never about making life easy. It’s about making us holy. It’s about knowing Him—not just in His power, but in His suffering (Philippians 3:10). It’s about loving like He did—even when it hurts. It’s about shining light—not just from the mountain—but from the valley too.

That’s the Jesus we follow. And that’s the Jesus the world is still desperately waiting to see in us.

Holy God, I long to walk in the conviction of love at all times. Let everything I do be saturated in Your presence—so that wherever I go, others are touched by Your Spirit and pointed back to You.

Replace every seed of doubt, fear, and unbelief with joy, strength, and laughter. Let the light of Your joy rise up in me like the morning sun that breaks the darkest night. Teach me Your ways, Lord—deepen my understanding so I may shine brightly in every dark place.

Remind me daily of who I am in You—my position as Your child, my identity in Christ, and the authority I carry through Your name. Let me never forget that I owe a continual debt of love to others, no matter the season I’m in. Help me to be joyfully obedient in that calling.

Thank You for the blood covenant that speaks a better word—of atonement, salvation, redemption, healing, wholeness, and eternal life. May I live in the fullness of all Jesus purchased for me at the cross.

In His holy and mighty name I pray, Amen.

Prayer of Salvation

Jesus, I believe You are the Son of God. I believe You died for my sins and rose again. I repent of my sin and ask You to forgive me. Come into my heart. Be my Lord and Savior. I give You my life, and I choose to follow You from this day forward. Thank You for saving me. Amen.