Faith and Suffering:

From A Chaplain’s Perspective

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4

Suffering has a way of stopping us in our tracks. It interrupts our expectations, disrupts our sense of control, and forces us to confront the things we spend most of our lives avoiding: pain, loss, and the reality that we are not as self-sufficient as we imagined.

As a chaplain, I have learned that suffering is not something to solve but something to walk through. And we never walk it alone.

Suffering Is Not a Sign of Weak Faith.  Many people say, “If I just had more faith, I wouldn’t feel this way.”  But Scripture never promises that faith eliminates suffering. It promises that God is present in it.

Faith does not shield us from sorrow; it anchors us in it. Faith gives us the language to cry out, the courage to lament, and the hope that God is doing something in the wilderness we did not choose.

We tend to look for God in miracles, breakthroughs, and answered prayers.
But some of the deepest encounters with God happen in hospital rooms, at gravesides, in moments when our hearts feel pulled apart.

God is not distant from suffering; He steps into it. Jesus wept,Jesus grieved, and Jesus suffered.  A God who bleeds is not ashamed to sit with us in our pain.

The Ministry of Presence in a Hurting World

As chaplains, we don’t offer easy answers.  We don’t fix what cannot be fixed.  We offer presence.  Sometimes the most holy thing you can do is sit with someone who feels shattered and whisper, “You are not alone. God is near—even here, even now.”  Presence is not passive. It is deeply spiritual work. It is a reminder that love remains when words fail.

Suffering Can Become a Sacred Teacher. No one wants suffering.  But suffering often reveals what truly matters.  It teaches compassion.  It softens our judgments.  It reminds us that every person carries invisible wounds.   It turns our hearts toward God in ways comfort never does.  The question is never “Why is this happening?”  The deeper question is “How will I walk through this—and who will I become on the other side?”

A Prayer for Those in Pain

God of compassion,
Sit with those who suffer.
Hold close those who are grieving

Give strength to the weary,
and remind every hurting heart
that Your presence is steady,
Your love is near, and your grace is enough for today.
Amen.

Grief Is Not a Problem to Be Solved:

Learning to Sit with Loss

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”
Matthew 5:4

When someone we love is grieving, our instinct is to help, to find the right words, the right Bible verse, or the right solution. But grief is not a problem that needs solving. It is a wound that needs tending.  

As chaplains, one of the hardest and holiest lessons we learn is that our presence can be more healing than our answer

Grief can make people feel lost in a world that has suddenly stopped making sense.   They may question God, faith, or even their own identity.  And in that confusion, what helps most is not explanation, but presence and listening.

When you sit with someone in silence, holding space for their pain, you are bearing witness to their love. You’re saying, “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

That’s what chaplaincy looks like, not fixing grief, but walking through it together.

It’s tempting to think faith should erase our sorrow. But Scripture shows the opposite: even Jesus wept at the tomb of His friend.  Grief is not the absence of faith; it is the expression of love.  You grieve deeply because you loved deeply and that love becomes the path toward healing.

The tears we shed in sorrow are often the first prayers of our recovery.

To “sit with loss” means to resist the urge to rush healing. It means allowing time, honesty, and compassion to do their quiet work. Everyone’s grief process is different, some days are easier than others.  Sometimes healing begins not in a sermon or a solution, but in the courage to simply be present in pain.

If we can offer anything as chaplains, it’s this: the reminder that you are seen, your grief is valid, and comfort does come… even if slowly.

Chaplains walk with individuals and families through loss, grief, and transition.
Our mission is not to fix pain, but to accompany you through it and offer spiritual care, presence, and hope in the midst of sorrow.

If you’re grieving, you don’t have to face it alone.

The Ministry of Presence:

Why Just Showing Up Matters

“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Psalm 46:10

We live in a world that celebrates action; fixing problems, offering advice, filling silence with words. Yet some of the holiest moments in life are found not in doing, but in being present.

This is the heart of chaplaincy: the ministry of presence.
It’s the quiet courage to sit with someone in pain, to stand beside them in uncertainty, or to wait with them in the in-between. It is the grace of simply showing. 

Presence Over Performance

In chaplaincy, we quickly learn that we cannot always make things better.
There are no perfect words when someone has lost a loved one, when a diagnosis changes everything, or when faith feels like it’s slipping away. But even when we cannot fix the situation, we can still be there.

Our presence tells the other person:

“You are not alone. I see you. I’m here.”

That simple act of being with someone quietly and faithfully speaks volumes. It’s how God’s love often moves through the world: through ordinary people showing up in extraordinary moments.

God’s Presence Through Us

The ministry of presence mirrors the heart of God.
When Scripture says, “Be still and know that I am God,” it’s an invitation to trust that divine love is at work even in silence.
In our stillness — in our willingness to simply accompany — we create space for that love to be felt.

In those moments, presence itself becomes prayer.

Reflection

Who in your life needs your presence more than your words?
Maybe it’s a friend in grief, a family member in crisis, or someone who just needs a safe space to speak. You don’t need perfect answers — just a faithful heart willing to be there.

Sometimes, the holiest thing you can say is nothing at all.

In closing, I believe that God meets us most deeply through presence — not perfection. Whether you’re walking through grief, doubt, or transition, we are here to walk beside you with compassion, stillness, and hope.