By Morris Wambua

Although the world is fraught with pain and turmoil, there is a story that has been told and retold across generations—a story of victory that doesn’t come through avoiding suffering but by enduring it.

This story centers on a King whose triumph is not measured by His ability to evade the agony of this world, but by the way He walks through its darkest moments. He does not merely transcend our human condition; He enters into the very heart of it.

This King’s victory offers more than just a distant hope or a theological concept.

His love, marked by resilience, penetrates the deepest wounds of humanity and emerges as a light that can never be extinguished. Whether through tyranny, mockery, or the raw power of evil, every
attempt to stifle this truth has only sown the seeds of something greater—something eternal.

Even today, His truth remains vibrantly alive: God is not absent in our suffering; He is ever-present.

His power does not merely exist in opposition to evil; it shines through it.

The paradox of triumph through suffering has been lived out in the lives of countless individuals throughout history, who have found hope and strength in their darkest moments.

Annie Johnston Flint, a renowned hymn writer, is a testament to this. Orphaned as a child and later
tormented by the unyielding pain of rheumatoid arthritis, Annie’s physical body seemed to crumble under the weight of her suffering.

As if that were not enough, she later developed cancer and became incontinent, needing seven pillows to cushion her fragile frame. And yet, from her life of relentless suffering, she penned words that still bring comfort to millions today: “He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater, He sendeth more strength when the labors increase.”

Annie’s story is not one of miraculous healing or deliverance from pain. It is a story of grace—of finding a divine strength that exists not in the absence of suffering, but in the heart of it.

Her life, far from being marked by bitterness or defeat, stands as a radiant testimony that hope can flourish even when the body withers. Her hymns speak of a love that meets us in our most unbearable moments, offering grace that goes beyond the limitations of human strength.

Such stories of faith rising from suffering are not confined to hymn writers or historical figures. The Apostle Paul's life is a vivid illustration of this very truth. Once Saul of Tarsus, a fierce persecutor of Christians, Paul underwent a radical transformation after encountering the risen Christ.

His life, once marked by violence and hatred, became a life poured out in service to the gospel. But Paul’s journey was far from easy.

In his letters, he speaks candidly of his sufferings—floggings, imprisonments, shipwrecks, and even a mysterious “thorn in the flesh” that tormented him.

Despite all this, Paul’s writings are filled with an unshakable joy and an unwavering hope. He famously declared, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” This is not the language of someone who has been spared suffering; it is the language of someone who has found grace within it.

Paul’s life is a powerful reminder that suffering, while painful, is not the end of the story. It is the soil in which God’s grace takes root and grows.

Through his suffering, Paul came to understand that God’s strength is made perfect in weakness. His letters, written from prisons and places of deep anguish, continue to inspire millions, revealing the profound truth that suffering can be a doorway to transformation.

The same paradox of triumph through suffering is seen in the life of Peter, another disciple of Jesus.

Known for his impulsiveness, Peter famously denied Jesus three times out of fear during Christ’s trial. After the resurrection, however, Peter was restored by Jesus in a deeply personal encounter that transformed him from a fearful man into the bold leader of the early church.

Peter’s story shows us that even our greatest failures, our moments of deepest shame, can be redeemed. His life stands as a testament to the fact that Christ’s love is not contingent on our perfection, but on His grace.

In this context, suffering becomes not a barrier but a conduit for grace. This was true for Thomas as well, the disciple often remembered for his doubt.

Thomas’ skepticism, though often criticized, was met with compassion by Jesus. Instead of rebuking him, Jesus invited Thomas to touch His wounds, to see and believe.

Tradition holds that Thomas went on to become a missionary, spreading the gospel as far as India, where he is said to have been martyred for his faith. His doubt did not disqualify him from experiencing the transformative power of Christ’s resurrection; instead, it became the very thing that led him to a deeper, more authentic faith.

Suffering, failure, and doubt—these are not things that disqualify us from God’s grace. On the contrary, they are often the places where grace meets us most profoundly.

This truth reverberates not just in the lives of the apostles but throughout the history of Christianity, where countless men and women have found that their greatest moments of weakness became the stage for God’s strength.

In the early days of Christianity, believers were no strangers to suffering.

Persecuted by the Roman Empire, they faced torture, imprisonment, and even death. And yet, they did not merely survive—they thrived.

Historian Will Durant remarked, “There is no greater drama in human record than the sight of a few Christians, scorned or oppressed by a succession of emperors, bearing all trials with a fierce tenacity, multiplying quietly, building order while their enemies generated chaos.”

The early church did not grow through conquest or political power; it grew through the quiet, unshakeable faith of ordinary men and women who were willing to endure suffering for the sake of something greater.

The apostle John, exiled on the island of Patmos, received the vision recorded in the Book of Revelation during a time of immense personal suffering and isolation.

Far from being a bleak, despairing account, Revelation is a book filled with hope.

John’s vision speaks of a time when every tear will be wiped away, when suffering will be no more, and when death itself will be defeated. This is not the hope of someone who has escaped suffering; it is the hope of someone who has walked through it and emerged on the other side with a vision of God’s ultimate victory.

John’s words remind us that no matter how overwhelming our present circumstances may seem, they do not have the final say.

The resurrection of Christ is not just an event in the distant past; it is a living reality that transforms every moment of our lives.

Just as the early Christians found strength in the knowledge that Christ had triumphed over
death, we too can find hope in the promise that suffering is not the end of the story.

 This enduring hope is not just confined to the pages of Scripture.

It has been lived out in the lives of countless believers throughout history.

Malcolm Muggeridge, a 20th-century journalist and author, reflected on the fleeting nature of worldly powers in contrast to the enduring power of faith.

He wrote, “All the great empires and civilizations have fallen, yet it was the Christian faith that emerged triumphant.”

Muggeridge, who experienced his own journey of faith late in life, understood that the things of this world—wealth, power, success—are temporary. But the love of Christ, the hope found in His resurrection, endures.

Today, as we face our own struggles—whether personal, societal, or global—we are invited to draw from this deep well of hope. We are reminded that the same power that transformed Peter, Paul, and Thomas is available to us.

Suffering, while painful, is not meaningless. It is the crucible through which our faith is refined, our hope strengthened, and our love deepened.

The breaking of bread during the Last Supper is a powerful image that ties together the past, present, and future.

When Jesus broke the bread and shared the cup with His disciples, He wasn’t just offering a meal; He was offering His very life.

“As often as you eat this bread and drink this cup,” He said, “you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

In that sacred act, time itself seems to fold in on itself—past, present, and future all held together in the love of Christ.

Every time we partake in communion, we are reminded that Christ’s love transcends time and space, and that His victory over darkness is as true today as it was on that first Easter morning.

As we reflect on the lives of Peter, Paul, Thomas, and countless others who have walked this path before us, we are reminded that their story is our story too.

The resurrection is not merely a historical event to be remembered; it is a living reality that we are invited to participate in.

Suffering, though inevitable, is not the final word. Through it, hope rises, and love—once nailed to a cross—reigns victorious forever.