Scripture: Genesis 50:20; Luke 22:31–32; 2 Corinthians 1:1–12; Romans 5:3–5, 8:28–29; James 1:2–4; Philippians 1:12–14; 1 Peter 5:10
Most of us would gladly remove some chapters from our lives.
There are experiences we never would have chosen—losses, disappointments, failures, illnesses, broken relationships, financial struggles, unanswered prayers, and seasons when God seemed unusually quiet.
Yet one of the great truths of discipleship is that God can take experiences we would never choose and use them to form us into people He can use.
The pattern often looks something like this:
My trouble → God’s comfort
My experience → God’s discipling
Someone else’s trouble → My ministry
Romans 8:28 is one of the best-known promises in Scripture, but we sometimes stop reading too soon. Verse 29 helps explain what God means by “good.”
“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son…”
— Romans 8:28–29
The promise is not that everything that happens to us is good.
Some things are terribly painful. Some things are genuinely evil.
The promise is that God can work through everything that happens to accomplish His redemptive purpose. And one of His greatest purposes is making us more like Jesus.
That is discipleship.
1. God Meets Us in Our Trials
Paul describes God with a wonderful title: “the source of all comfort.”
— 2 Corinthians 1:3–4
Notice the progression.
God doesn’t simply observe our suffering. He meets us there.
A historical story helps me picture this.
During 1938 and 1939, as Nazi persecution intensified across Europe, thousands of parents made an agonizing decision. They placed their children aboard trains bound for safety through what became known as the Kindertransport.
Approximately 10,000 mostly Jewish children were brought to Great Britain. Many left Germany, Austria, and Czechoslovakia carrying little more than a small suitcase. Some carried photographs, toys, or other reminders of home.
Imagine being one of those children.
You’re eight or nine years old.
Your parents put a suitcase in your hand. Perhaps there is an identification tag attached to you. Then you climb aboard a train—and your parents don’t.
Every mile takes you farther from everything familiar.
Different country.
Different language.
Different people.
You don’t know exactly where you’re going or what will happen when you arrive.
Eventually, many of those children arrived at London’s Liverpool Street Station.
The doors opened.
And someone was waiting.
Families and sponsors had made arrangements to receive the children. One of the best-known rescuers, Nicholas Winton, helped arrange the rescue of 669 children from Czechoslovakia.
Think about the journey from the child’s perspective.
You didn’t know the people waiting for you. But they knew you were coming.
There are seasons when life feels something like that train ride.
We didn’t choose the journey. We don’t understand where it is taking us. We’re carrying pain we didn’t ask to carry, and perhaps worst of all, we feel alone.
Joseph didn’t know what waited beyond the pit.
Moses didn’t know what waited beyond Midian.
David didn’t know what waited beyond the wilderness.
Peter didn’t know what waited beyond his failure.
Paul didn’t know what waited beyond the prison.
But God did.
You may feel like you’re traveling alone, but God is already present in the place you haven’t reached yet.
Paul discovered this firsthand. His imprisonment appeared to be an interruption of his ministry. Instead, he wrote:
“Everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News.”
— Philippians 1:12
What looked like an interruption became part of the ministry.
Sometimes we look backward and think:
If only this hadn’t happened.
If only I hadn’t gotten sick.
If only that relationship hadn’t failed.
If only I hadn’t lost that opportunity.
We may never understand every “why,” but God can do some of His deepest work through circumstances we never would have chosen.
Before God asks us to minister out of our pain, He meets us in our pain.
2. God Forms Us Through Our Trials
God doesn’t only meet us in trials. He forms us through them.
Peter is a remarkable example.
Before Peter denied Jesus, Christ told him exactly what was coming:
“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers.”
— Luke 22:31–32
Jesus saw Peter’s coming failure and Peter’s future ministry in the same conversation.
Think about that progression:
Sifting → Restoration → Strengthening others
Jesus didn’t merely intend to bring Peter back.
He intended to send Peter back for somebody else.
Trials therefore change the question we ask.
Instead of only asking:
“God, when are You going to get me out of this?”
Perhaps we also need to ask:
“God, what are You developing in me through this?”
Paul describes another progression:
“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.”
— Romans 5:3–4
Trials produce endurance.
Endurance develops character.
Character strengthens hope.
This is where faith becomes more than something we talk about.
“Faith shows the reality of what we hope for; it is the evidence of things we cannot see.”
— Hebrews 11:1
Faith is often discovered in those moments when we cannot see what God is doing but choose to trust the One who does.
Scripture frequently uses the picture of refining metal. Heat exposes impurities so they can be removed. In much the same way, testing reveals things about us.
Testing reveals what we know.
More importantly, testing reveals Who we know.
Testing can strengthen us.
Testing can expose areas needing growth.
Testing can prepare us for responsibilities we couldn’t have handled before.
God is forming disciples.
3. God Ministers Through Our Trials
Then comes perhaps the most surprising part.
God doesn’t only meet us in our trials or form us through our trials.
He can minister to others through what we have experienced.
Return to Paul’s words:
“He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”
— 2 Corinthians 1:4
Those two little words—“so that”—change everything.
God comforted me so that I could comfort somebody else.
The child who once needed somebody waiting at the station can eventually become the person standing at the station waiting for somebody else.
That’s discipleship.
Christ meets us and walks with us through our pain.
We are changed by the journey.
Then God places us in someone else’s life.
Our pain begins becoming ministry.
Joseph is perhaps the greatest Old Testament example.
He was thrown into a pit.
Sold into slavery.
Falsely accused.
Imprisoned.
Forgotten.
Yet Joseph remained faithful. Eventually, God positioned him so that he could preserve the lives of others—including the very brothers who had betrayed him.
Years later Joseph could say:
“You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people.”
— Genesis 50:20
Joseph’s trial became part of his testimony.
His testimony became part of his ministry.
I suffered.
God met me.
God changed me.
Now God can use me.
A disciple isn’t merely someone who knows things about Jesus.
A disciple is someone who has walked with Jesus long enough that Jesus can use their life to help someone else walk with Him.
When Someone Is Found
A recent headline provides a moving picture of what it means to be found.
On August 31, 2026, Florida officials announced the results of Operation Statewide Shield, a coordinated effort that recovered or safely located 163 missing children, from infants to teenagers. Multiple agencies participated in an operation extending beyond Florida and involving other states and international jurisdictions.
Some of those children had experienced circumstances involving abuse, neglect, or exploitation. Their recovery was not simply the end of a search; it was the beginning of connecting them with people and services intended to help them move forward.
Behind the number 163 were 163 individual stories.
Imagine being one of them.
Imagine realizing:
Someone knew I was missing.
Someone was looking for me.
Someone came for me.
And now return to that train station. (Listen to the song, WAITING as you meditate and spend time in prayer.)
There is something beautiful about the image of someone waiting at the end of a frightening journey.
That’s also a picture of what Christians can become for one another.
God meets us in our pain so that one day He can use us to meet someone else in theirs.
Maybe you’ve traveled a road you never wanted to travel.
Maybe you’ve endured something you still don’t completely understand.
Don’t assume God has finished writing that chapter.
Peter’s failure wasn’t the final chapter.
Joseph’s pit wasn’t the final chapter.
Paul’s prison wasn’t the final chapter.
And your suffering does not have to be the final chapter either.
Peter gives us this promise:
“In his kindness God called you to share in his eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus. So after you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.”
— 1 Peter 5:10
He will restore you.
He will strengthen you.
He will establish you.
Perhaps one day you’ll discover that the place where God met you in your pain became the very place where God began preparing you to minister to someone else.
God can turn our trials into training for ministry.
And by His grace, our trials can become our testimony.
