Why Does God Allow Suffering? Finding Hope in His Sovereignty Over the Storm
As Christians, we love to talk about God's blessings, His provision, healing, and miracles. We celebrate when prayers are answered with a "yes," when life feels good and faith seems straightforward. But what happens when the storm hits? When cancer strikes, a loved one dies unexpectedly, a marriage crumbles, or tragedy strikes without warning? In those moments, many of us quietly wonder: Where is God? Does He even care?
Too often, we fall into a subtle trap: picturing God as only involved in the good things, the rescues, the breakthroughs, the happy endings. We thank Him for the parking spot or the healing, but when suffering comes, we blame "the enemy," bad luck, or even ourselves. This leaves God looking distant, limited, or worse, powerless in the face of real pain.
But the Bible tells a different story. Over and over, Scripture shows us a God who is sovereign over everything, including the hardest things we face. He doesn't just react to evil; He governs it, owns it, and ultimately redeems it. And strangely, this truth isn't meant to scare us. It's meant to give us unshakable hope.
What the Bible Actually Says About God and Suffering
Look at the prophet Habakkuk. He cried out to God about violence and injustice, and God's answer shocked him: "I'm raising up the Babylonians, a ruthless, terrifying nation, to march across the earth" (Hab 1:5–11). God didn't distance Himself from the coming disaster. He said, I am doing this.
Or consider Job. A righteous man who lost everything (children, wealth, health) in a whirlwind of tragedy. The Bible doesn't say Satan did it and God just allowed it. It says the Lord gave and the Lord took away (Job 1:21), and even Job's family later acknowledged "all the evil that the Lord had brought upon him" (Job 42:11). God took full ownership.
We see this again and again:
God says, "I create calamity" (Isa 45:7).
"Does disaster come to a city unless the Lord has done it?" (Amos 3:6).
He calls brutal empires like Assyria and Babylon His "servant" and "rod of anger" to discipline His people (Isa 10:5; Jer 25:9).
This isn't a cruel God. This is a God so powerful that nothing, not empires, not disasters, not even Satan, operates outside His control.
Why Seeing God as "Blessings Only" Hurts Us
When we imagine God as only the giver of good things, two dangerous ideas creep in.
First, we start thinking suffering means God has stepped back. That leaves us feeling abandoned, or worse, we imagine a cosmic tug-of-war where evil sometimes wins. But if God isn't in control of the storm, how can we trust Him to calm it?
Second, it turns faith into a transaction. "If I'm good, God blesses me. If things go wrong, I must have done something wrong." This breeds pride in the prosperous ("Look how blessed I am—God must really like me") and judgment toward the suffering ("What did they do to deserve this?"). Jesus confronted this exact mindset in the Pharisees, who saw their status as proof of righteousness while looking down on sinners and sufferers.
I've seen this play out in real life. A dear friend lost her young husband to cancer. Well-meaning Christians told her, "If you just had more faith, he would have been healed." She carried guilt for years, wondering what she lacked. But the truth is: God doesn't operate like Santa Claus, handing out gifts to "good" children. He is sovereign, and His love isn't earned, it's poured out most clearly at the cross.
A Better Way: Trusting the God Who Enters the Storm
So what does this mean for you, right now, in your pain?
It means your suffering is not random. It hasn't slipped past God's notice or overwhelmed His power. He sees it, He governs it, and (most importantly) He is with you in it.
Remember the disciples in the boat during the storm (Mark 4:35–41)? Waves crashing, boat filling with water, terror gripping their hearts. They woke Jesus with a desperate cry: "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"
And Jesus stood up, rebuked the wind, and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" The storm obeyed instantly. Then He turned to them: "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"
That same Jesus, the One who commands the wind and waves, is the One who went to the cross. There, He didn't stand outside suffering. He entered it fully, taking the worst evil the world could throw at Him: betrayal, injustice, agony, death. And God the Father didn't look away. He poured out wrath on His own Son so that every broken thing in this fallen world could one day be made new.
Your pain is not the end of the story. Because God owns the storm, He can calm it. Because He entered suffering, He can redeem yours.
How This Changes Everything
When you begin to see God as truly sovereign (even over tragedy) a few beautiful things happen:
You can be honest with Him. Like Habakkuk and Job, you can lament, question, even cry out in confusion. God isn't threatened by your honesty. He invites it.
You stop carrying false guilt. Suffering isn't always (or even usually) punishment for personal sin. Sometimes it's part of living in a broken world under a sovereign God who is weaving a larger story.
You find deeper intimacy. Knowing God in suffering is different from knowing Him in blessing. Pain strips away shallow faith and drives us to the heart of God, the God who suffers with us and for us.
Hope becomes unbreakable. If God is in control of the worst things, then nothing can ultimately destroy you. Not cancer. Not loss. Not betrayal. Because the One who raises empires and calms seas is working even your pain and one day, He will wipe away every tear.
A Prayer for the Storm
If you're in the middle of suffering right now, let me leave you with this:
Lord Jesus, I don't understand why this is happening. It hurts, and I'm afraid. But I believe You are good, and You are in control, even of this. Help me trust You. Calm the storm in Your time, but until then, calm the storm in my heart. Let me know You more deeply here, in the dark, than I ever have in the light. Thank You that You didn't stay outside my pain, but entered it for me. I trust You. Amen.
You're not alone. The God who owns the storm is in the boat with you—and one day, He will speak peace. Until then, hold on to Him. He is worthy of your trust.