When looking back over my life, I can rejoice, really rejoice, that God didn’t answer all my prayers exactly the way I wanted. He gave me what I needed, not what I asked for, and I can see now that his refusals were his mercies. But amid unanswered prayer — when I’m begging for help and nothing changes, when pain overwhelms and healing doesn’t come — is joy even possible?
How Long, Lord?
It had been a grueling year. My body felt ravaged by illness and pain, and I resigned myself to never walking again, or eating what I wanted, or even thinking clearly. Multiple unrelated health issues had converged, leaving me exhausted and discouraged. My prayers for relief had gone unanswered, and rather than improving, the struggles only intensified. I was desperately calling out, and God didn’t seem to be answering.
I identified deeply with David’s cry in Psalm 13:1: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” I felt forgotten and overlooked. I couldn’t see an end to my suffering — only the dread that more was coming. Like David, I had spent my days dwelling on what was hard and listening to my own counsel (verse 2) without considering the Lord’s presence or purposes. I wanted to trust God and sing about his faithfulness, but all I could see was loss, broken dreams, and more pain. When suffering lingers unrelieved, it’s hard to rejoice and sing.
I kept asking God, as David did, “Consider and answer me, O Lord my God” (verse 3). But I heard nothing.
For months, I came to God feeling defeated. I didn’t want to open the Bible. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to do anything but feel sorry for myself. Rather than remembering God’s promises, I rehearsed my problems. But I opened the Bible anyway, and one morning, something stirred me. I felt God reminding me that he knew each one of those problems. He was inviting me to look at him before I looked at them.
The next day, still struggling, I wrote a list of what had gone wrong — things that felt stolen from my life. As I looked over it, I realized I needed to keep my eyes on the Lord and not the list. I had to trust him with my pain, even though I didn’t understand it. My suffering was no coincidence, no unusually bad luck. It had come from God himself. And with that realization, I sensed he was giving me something I needed more than healing — a precious gift I would one day thank him for.
To receive that gift, I needed to put my hope in the lovingkindness of a good and sovereign God rather than in the outcome I wanted. That’s what David did when he said, “I have trusted in your steadfast love” before his situation had changed (verse 5).
His Purpose in Pain
I began reflecting and writing, reminding myself of what I knew to be true. Rather than taking counsel in my soul, I needed counsel from God on how to interpret what was happening. As I did, I realized that God did care; he knew every detail of what I was going through. He loved me and was working for my good. Maybe what I needed most wasn’t a healed body but a deeper walk with him. Maybe God was stripping everything away so I would see him more clearly. Maybe there was a glorious purpose to this pain.
I wrote in my journal, “When I think that this has all been purposeful, that it has come from your hand, I can accept it and even find joy in it. . . . You’ve called me to this. You are shaking what can be shaken so that what is unshakable remains.”
After writing, I opened the Bible to that day’s passage in my reading plan. I was in Haggai and immediately noticed 2:5: “My Spirit remains in your midst. Fear not.” Those words reassured me. But the next verse stunned me: “Yet once more, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land” (Haggai 2:6). I had just paraphrased Hebrews 12:26–27 in my journal, unaware that the reference came from Haggai.
I was taken aback. This echo was from God. Like my suffering, it was no coincidence. God was speaking to me. He was with me; I didn’t need to be afraid of the shaking I was enduring.
Joy Unspeakable
The joy that followed was astounding. I was laughing and singing. Nothing had changed in my circumstances, but everything had changed within me. Hearing from God, trusting in his love, and knowing his purposes proved far greater gifts than healing. Those seemingly unanswered prayers for relief were actually answers to the deeper prayers I’d prayed for years: prayers to know God more deeply, to be more satisfied in him, to grow in Christlikeness, and to love Jesus more.
Like David, I could say, “I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me” (Psalm 13:6). My circumstances hadn’t changed, but my heart had. God hadn’t given me what I asked for — he gave me something better. He gave me himself. And in him, I found a joy that nothing could shake.
As I reflect on the moments that have grounded my faith and brought me the deepest, most lasting joy, many are connected to suffering — often through unanswered prayers, sleepless nights, and desperate tears. Yet in those dark places, God has always been there. And in his presence, there is fullness of joy.
Desiring God