At Your Wit's End? That's Where God Hides

Sometimes God seems downright playful. He likes especially, it seems, to play the childhood game of “hide-and-seek.”St. Augustine wrote, “Lord, why do you seem to seek those who hide from you, but hide from those who seek you?”God’s favorite “hiding place” for those who seek him is, of course, where souls are less likely to seek him—in hardships, adversity, pain and suffering. He who is all good hides in what appears to be “bad”—life’s most distasteful events such as the many hurtful problems or concerns or sufferings that exhaust our strength, and even our faith and our hope, leaving us “at our wit’s end.”We might find humorous relief in Winston Churchill’s quip that calmed the terrified Londoners during Hitler’s blitzkrieg: “If you’re going through hell, keep going!”

A tiny child playing with a knife or scissors may cry when the dangerous objects are taken away from him by a concerned parent. What the parent sees as a “good” act of providing safety for the child, the baby sees only as “bad”—being deprived of a plaything.

That scenario, simplistic as it is, epitomizes the divine vs. human perspective regarding sufferings, misfortunes and pains of any kind. The parent is mature, while the child is immature, so each views the situation differently. We humans, experiencing our typically frustrating life-events, are merely immature infants, lacking even the faintest grasp of the enormous “good” hidden in what appears to be “bad”—that is, hurtful—in our troubled moments of life. We can’t see (even by the most advanced faith) all the good hidden in life’s adversities in God’s plans for our ultimate welfare. To us hardships seem “bad,” precisely because they are distasteful to us—things like unemployment, sickness, addictions, depression, worries, marriage or family conflict, frustrations and disappointments, and most especially physical pain.

Even the most saintly souls are not exempt from extreme suffering in life; all adversity is God-permitted to mirror the mental and physical torment of Jesus himself, and God-designed to sanctify us (1 Pet. 4:1). As Messiah Jesus was prophesied to “heal the broken-hearted” (Is. 61:1) was himself broken-hearted because of mankind’s sins, but also heartbroken in the disappointment of being ignored by most of his own people. In weeping over Jerusalem, but especially in his blood-sweat in Gethsemane, he felt himself “at wit’s end” as he cried out in anguish: “My soul is crushed with sorrow to the point of death.”

One of the most popular saints of modern times, Saint Padre Pio, mirrored in a most dramatic way the sufferings of our crucified Savior by the stigmatic bleeding wounds of Christ that marked his body, similar to the well-known stigmatic founder of his Franciscan order, St. Frances of Assisi.One day, when Padre Pio felt that he was “at his wit’s end” after 50 years of day-and-night, moment-by-moment agony from his miraculous stigmatic bleeding wounds, he complained to his often-appearing guardian angel, that after a half-century of ceaseless excruciating pain, he was unable to sustain it any longer. His angel replied, “Dear Padre Pio, you think your suffering is beyond your ability to endure. But if you could see how God is using your pain for his glory and for the benefit of countless souls, your joy would be equally beyond your endurance.” As Jesus, in his bloody sweat, was consoled by a heaven-sent angel (Luke 22:43); Padre Pio, uplifted by his angel, exulted in the theme of Psalm 94:“When my anxiety was great, your consolation gave joy to my soul.” As Blessed Suso said, “Sanctified suffering is a short pain that reaps a long joy.”

St. John of the Cross, the greatest mystic since St. Paul, was himself not a stranger to unimaginable sufferings, which added credibility to his astonishing claim. He said, “God allows enough suffering in each person’s life to compensate for all of their accumulated purgatory. Thus, anyone can complete their purgatory before death, rather than after death. But this privilege is available only for those rare souls who, consistently and without complaint, accept, for love of God, every one of life’s unpreventable sufferings, as designed and permitted by his holy will.” That enhanced the impact of St. Augustine’s own claim: “It is far, far better and easier to embrace lovingly every suffering of one’s earthly life than to endure even a short purgatory after death.” But very few souls patiently, lovingly and generously embrace all of life’s God-permitted sufferings, including those caused by other humans.

Keep in mind that God rewards not just Providence-permitted hurts or problems, but even self-imposed prudent mortification, i.e. self-denial (“Let a man deny himself”). However, he does not reward self-caused misery, like ailments from gluttony, from drug or alcohol abuse, job-loss from poor performance, marital friction from one’s own male ego or female pettiness, etc. Holy self-imposed sacrifice is not the same as stupid self-caused misery.

People often ask me, “Should I pray for healing, and hence pain relief, or should I just accept it?” Scripture tells us in many places that we should show our faith by asking—and also expecting—many things from God, such as our healing or relief from pain, our safety, our necessary resources (“Give us our daily bread”), solutions to problems like unemployment, marriage conflicts, etc. Thus, we rightly pray to prevent or to remove many kinds of suffering.

Yet, in spite of such mandated prayer, God’s sovereign will chooses to leave a substantial amount of suffering in every single human life—with some people called to suffer far more than others; thus, two-thirds of humans have never enjoyed even one full meal, in spite of cascades of compassionate help. There are countless forms of “non-removable” suffering flowing from Adam’s sin (Rom. 5:12) that God wants us to accept lovingly and generously. Paul had to learn this, and he did, when God refused to heal his physical suffering—even his demon-caused “thorn-in-the-flesh” (2 Cor. 12:9).

Miraculous healings from prayer are inspiring but relatively rare, so most sufferers, even in a healing service, are more often disappointed than gratified. Why? A pain-racked person “at their wit’s end,” is usually more concerned about what God can do for them than what they can do for God; so they tend to “pray amiss” as James says (4:3). Their prayer is usually self-focused rather than God-focused. For one thing, the typical prayer for relief by a deep-suffering Christian most often operates at the lowest form of faith—believing that God can grant relief, but not truly believing that he will grant it. (That type of “expectant faith” must itself be asked for, not presumed, as I explained in my book, Faith, Key to the Heart of God. )

But even more significantly, their entire prayer life is often characterized almost exclusively by petition (“impetratory”) prayer. While such petition prayer is Scripture-prompted and beautiful as expressive of human dependence on the Almighty, still it is a prayer form that is far less sublime than adoration, praise, worship, thanksgiving, blessing, glorifying, repenting, etc. All suffering persons should use their privilege of asking for healing or relief or solution of problems.But they should also advance beyond mere asking, as Paul shows in Philippians 4:6. That Bible-cited principle is known to every spiritual director and to every mature spiritual client. (See my booklet and CD, When God Says No—25 Reasons Why Some Prayers are Unanswered).

If your sustained and earnest prayer for relief is still unavailing, the Lord may be urging you to “keep on praying day and night,” like the widow in Jesus’ parable (Luke 18:1). But don’t exclude the possibility that God may be calling you to be a sacrificial “victim soul,” as described by St. Paul in Romans 12: 1: “Iurge you, brothers, in view of God’ s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship.”

This “spiritual worship” is, of course, far better than petition. If God is calling you to use your suffering as “an act of worship” (after you have explored every possible means of relief, natural and supernatural, including medical attention as stated in Sirach 38), then you may have the calling to be a humble and uncomplaining victim soul—“a living sacrifice,” to use Paul’s description.

Paul’s victimhood reaped what pain-relief couldn’t—spiritual growth that upgraded his heavenly status, and power of influence (2 Cor. 12:9); his words are still cited by preachers, catechists, and spiritual writers around the world.

Many anguished souls “at the end of their rope” are at the end of their hope. The Devil’s trap of hopelessness can easily devolve into despair, which Disraeli called “the conclusion of fools.” Some seek escape through a tragic and fruitless suicide. Remember, feelings should never trump God’s sovereignty. If feelings like depression direct our decisions, then God’s sovereignty is ignored. Aside from suicidal depression (a psychopathological condition), a suffering person “at their wit’s end” might yearn for death, as St. Paul did (2 Cor. 5:8), in his holy desire for his soul’s fulfillment, certainly never with a self-destructive desire as a form of escapism, which would vitiate God’s divine sovereignty. Yearning for death is not causing it, and seeking fulfillment of one’s blessed destiny is not seeking escape from suffering.

Security for the Desperate: Tripod of Divine Providence

Even the most devout souls are usually unaware of the divine “tripod” of Providence—the set of three primary divine attributes by which the Almighty orchestrates everything ultimately for his glory and our eternal welfare. That “tripod” consists, first, in his divine sovereignty by which he is in control of all persons, places and things to make them “work together unto good” (to quote Paul’s iconic phrase of Romans 8:28). This “control” is his limitless power.

The second leg of the tripod is God’s infinite wisdom, by which he knows the best outcome to be sought and the most effective means to attain it.

The third leg of the tripod is his infinite love or benevolence that animates his divine actions with our welfare in mind.

In the face of our shallow and distorted view of hardships and adversities and misfortunes—like the baby’s view of being deprived of the dangerous playthings—our gracious Lord, by his revealed word, urges us to adopt his divine perspective, like the parent’s protective action regarding the baby.

This divine perspective has been revealed to us by God’s word in countless place in the Bible. Consider, for example, the words of the Lord in Jeremiah 29:11: “’For surely I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord, ‘plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.’” Doesn’t that reflect the mind of the protective parent as related to the baby?Those words from Jeremiah should be emblazoned on our hearts, and applied at every negative turn of events that we encounter in life.

Being able to see the “good” where the “bad” seems more patent is a very special grace to be prayed for. That ideal—seeing the “good” in God’s plan when the “bad” seems more obtrusive—is one of the more challenging aspects of our faith. However, God is there to bolster our faltering faith, and to provide hope when all seems hopeless. It may help to keep in mind the dictum: “Don’t put a question mark where God has placed a period.”

If anyone knows the “bad” side of human suffering, Jesus does, for he pleaded with his heavenly Father in Gethsemane to be exempt from it: “Father, if it is possible, let this cup [of suffering] pass from me” (Matt. 26:39). Yet he knew, incredibly, that his anguish was part of the “good” side of the divine plan, ultimately for our “welfare, not harm,” as Jeremiah put it. And the awareness of the awesome “good”—the redemption of mankind—to come out of the “bad”—torturous suffering of body, mind and spirit—enabled him to add those extraordinary words of consummate trust and faith: “Yet not what I want but what you want.” Repelled by suffering in his human nature, he still unreservedly entrusted his human will to his Father’s divine will.

Once we have thoroughly entrusted our heart, mind and will to the Lord, who always seeks our welfare, not our harm, then our life’s hardships no longer seem to be scattered hurts and threats. Instead, we feel free to stand up and face anything that seems hurtful, knowing that we have a faithful God to guide and protect us through it all, with a disproportionately great heavenly reward awaiting us. We can then unselfishly focus on making this a better world for ourselves and for all who cross our path. That is what the first Pope advocated (1 Pet 4:19): “Let those suffering in accordance with God’s will entrust themselvesto a faithful Creator, while continuing to do good.”

Many times in our suffering it seems as though God doesn’t seem to care, as if he “doesn’t have time for us.” Our complaints reflect those of Job, who, far more than any of us, found himself “at his wit’s end,” with his immense wealth plundered, his servants murdered, all of his ten children killed by Satan’s design, and then suffering in his body excruciating pain. He believed that God would justly reward his submission: “”He knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold” (Job 23:10). Yet in the next chapter he notes that sinners may suffer less, so he feels treated unfairly. Many of us who have undergone a heavy trial feel much like Job. Our prayer may sound like this: “I know, Lord, that I am not perfect, but I am not living like so many in mortal sin who seem to get away with it. So why do you seem so far away from me, Lord?When will you relieve me of this affliction?”

Psalm 33:13-18 provides the answer to those questions: “From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind…he watches all who live on earth…and considers everything they do…The eyes of the Lord are [especially] on those who reverence him, whose hope is in his unfailing love.”

It is humbling to grasp that we are not completely in control of our destinies. The Lord in his infinite wisdom sees our life and its purpose far differently and with much greater clarity than we can even grasp. His holy will is flawlessly righteous and utterly love-driven. As Creator, he is in charge; nothing can block his plan, custom-designed for each individual. Without impugning our free will, he either causes or permits everything in our life—ecstatic joy or unbearable anguish—for only one purpose: our ultimate benefit in which he finds his supreme glory. He doesn’t gloat over our afflictions, for Lamentations 3:32 says, “Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love.” Thus, his glory is not derived from our afflictions, but from his will fulfilled in our afflictions, and moreso if we embrace them for love of him. But like Job, you may truly submit to God’s will, but still fail in trust. What is the difference? Simply this: Submission accepts the pain; trust sees God’s poweer, wisdom and especially his love behind the pain.

Trust—God’s Aspirin for Worry-Plagued Souls

Imagine Jesus appearing to you and giving you a specific command to avoid something, and then restating that command five more times. You would certainly take that admonition seriously. This is exactly what Jesus did when he delivered a forceful sermon condemning worry as a sign of lack of trust in him. You can read about this in Matthew 6:25-34, where six times Jesus forbids us to worry. There’s no better self-examination on the virtue of trust than a review of what we worry about, and for what stretches of time we engage in worry.

Here is something to really “worry” about:If you are worried for five minutes, then for those five minutes you are not fully in God’s will. For those five minutes, you do not truly trust him. And if you worry for three days, then for those three days you are not fully in God’s will, for you have let the Lord’s presence and his reliability slip far into the background of your consciousness. Jesus said godless people think this way (see Matt 6:32). Why? Because worry denies one’s trust in an incredibly loving and supportive God. Since worry is futuristic; its antidote is futuristic also—a form of faith called trust. To express it succinctly and trenchantly, “Your unknown future is not unknown to God.”

Nevertheless, we must not confuse worry with legitimate concern. Your compassion for homeless or starving people is not a self-centered; it’s an altruistic and hence charitable concern.Peaceful regard for your physical or spiritual welfare, or that of your family or friends, is zeal. Zeal is the highest form of loving concern; it yearns for God’s glory and the welfare of his people.

However, never let “concern” become an unsettling inner experience. Jesus, while reminding us to expect troubles in this life (John 16:33), says twice in John 14, “Let not your hearts be troubled.”A troubled heart tends to displace true concern and succumb to the sin of worry (anxiety) which corrodes the psyche itself. “Have anxiety for nothing,” says Paul (Phil. 4:6). A “troubled” mind tends to doubt that God will deal with the problem in his way and his time. That faith-weakness is trust-weakness, a spiritual weakness called worry.

How do we know whether our anxiety-suffering is sinful worry or virtuous concern? The two characteristics of virtuous concern are: First, the mind keeps the matter God-focused with quiet, calm petition, while staying aware that our Heavenly Father himself knows our needs (Matt 6:32); and that he himself has a real concern about them (see I Pet. 5:7and Ps. 55:22). Secondly, a truly holy (non-worrisome) concern is characterized by a deep serenity—an emotional tranquility (peace of heart) linked to a spiritual tranquility (peace of soul).

This peace of soul is a fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22), a supernatural gift bestowed by Jesus: “My peace I give you, not as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled [i.e., worried] and do not be afraid” (John 14:27). That trust-in-trouble parallels the LBS motto (Let’s Be Saints program): “Let go, Let God.” It spiritualizes the old bromide: “When you’re at the end of your rope, just let go!” That’s good advice anytime—unless you’re mountain-climbing!

Even if your problems and sufferings leave you “at your wit’s end,” and you’re worried that they might simply overwhelm you, don’t lose any sleep worrying about them. Dump them all in God’s lap.He’s up all night anyway!