Is my suffering a sign that God is angry with me?
It's one of the oldest questions humans ask: Why do bad things happen to good people? And more personally, when something terrible happens to us, we can't help but wonder—is this my fault? Is God punishing me?
These aren't new questions. In fact, they're ancient. The book of Job wrestles with this exact struggle, and it might be the oldest piece of Scripture we have. Job was a man who had everything—wealth, health, a large family, and deep faith in God. He was the kind of person who seemed blessed in every way imaginable.
Then everything fell apart. His children died. His wealth disappeared. His health failed. He lost nearly everything except his life and his wife (who told him to just curse God and die).
When friends make it worse
Job had four friends who came to sit with him in his suffering. At first, they did the right thing—they just sat with him for a week, mourning alongside him. But then they started talking, and that's when things went sideways.
The first friend to speak was Eliphaz, and his message was simple but devastating: If you do good, you get good. If you got bad, you did bad.
Eliphaz believed that the amount of suffering we experience matches our amount of sin. He told Job, "Bad things don't happen to good people. Innocent people don't die. Upright people don't lose everything. So Job, if all this happened to you, you must have done something really, really wrong."
This is what we might call "bad theology"—dangerous ideas about God that cause real harm to real people.
Eliphaz kept pushing: "The world doesn't just randomly create trouble. When you throw a log on a fire, sparks fly up. Everything has a cause. Your suffering has a cause, and that cause is your sin" (Job 4-5).
Later, he doubled down: "Just repent, Job. If you're sorry enough—like really, truly sorry—then God will listen to your prayers and bless you again" (Job 22).
The problem with "fair"
On the surface, Eliphaz's equation seems fair. Do good things, get good things. It's simple. It's what we teach children. But when we push this idea to its logical conclusion, it falls apart.
Because here's the truth: Whatever we say is true about humanity and God must be true about Jesus. Jesus was 100% God and 100% human. So if we believe that suffering only happens to people who deserve it, what do we do with Jesus?
Jesus had problems everywhere He went. Critics followed Him constantly. People mocked Him, mistrusted Him, and misunderstood Him. He was born into poverty, never owned a home, and ended up being betrayed by one of His closest friends. He stood trial based on lies and was brutally executed.
Jesus suffered excruciatingly. And Jesus never sinned.
The apostle Peter wrote that Jesus "committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return. When he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:22-23).
Jesus didn't suffer because He deserved it. He suffered for sins that weren't His own—our sins. And incredibly, He suffered "as an example, so that you might follow in his steps" (1 Peter 2:21).
A different equation
So here's the correct equation:
Do good does NOT equal get good.
Got bad does NOT equal did bad.
Bad things happen to us that are not the result of our personal sin. We live in a broken world. The Bible tells us in Romans 8 that all of creation was "subjected to futility"—the whole world is fractured by sin's corruption.
This means:
The sin someone did to you was not your fault
Chronic illness is not punishment from God
Miscarriage is not a result of your personal sin
Tragedy is not evidence that God is angry with you
Suffering is not a reliable indicator of God's pleasure or displeasure.
In John 9, Jesus passed by a man who was born blind. His disciples asked, "Who sinned—this man or his parents—that he was born blind?" Jesus answered: "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him."
All suffering comes from sin, but...
Here's what we need to hold together: All suffering comes from sin but God's purpose is greater than our pain.
Yes, all suffering traces back to sin entering the world and breaking everything. But that doesn't mean every specific instance of suffering is punishment for a specific sin. Sometimes suffering happens simply because we live in a fallen world. Sometimes God allows suffering to display His power. Sometimes suffering is the consequence of someone else's sin against us.
God is not a cosmic vending machine we can manipulate—put in enough good behavior and get the outcomes we want. He's not going to be controlled like that. And there's no manager above Him to complain to about what's "fair."
But here's the hope: Our good Father can be trusted to never waste pain.
A scalpel in the hands of a dangerous person is only ever deadly. But a scalpel in the hands of a skilled surgeon wounds for healing. God is the skilled surgeon. He knows what He's doing, even when we don't understand it.
Peter wrote: "Let those who suffer according to God's will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good" (1 Peter 4:19). Jesus modeled this perfectly—in the midst of unjust suffering, He continued trusting God who judges justly.
What about real consequences?
Now, let's be clear: God does sometimes allow consequences for our poor choices. If you make destructive decisions, you'll likely face destructive outcomes. That's not God being mean—that's how He designed reality to help us learn and grow.
But the answer to "Why is this happening?" isn't always "Because you messed up." Most of the time, we simply don't know the full picture. And that's okay. God has designed this world so we actually have to talk to Him about this stuff.
The deepest issue isn't whether we can figure out the "why" behind our suffering. The deepest issue is worship—what rules our hearts will control how we respond to both suffering and blessing.
How do we respond?
At the end of Job's story, God showed up and corrected Eliphaz and his friends. God said, "My anger burns against you... for you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has" (Job 42:7). Job didn't have all the answers, but he kept trusting God. His friends had confident answers, but they were wrong about God's character.
So here's what we're invited to do:
Don't approach people in pain as arrogant truth-dispensers. Don't look someone who's suffering in the eye and claim to know exactly why God is doing this to them. Be humble. Be compassionate. Sit with them. Grieve with them.
Go directly to God with your questions. He sees your heart. He knows your pain. He was there when it happened to you, and His heart breaks over what broke you. Ask Him if there's sin to address. If He says you're forgiven and not being punished, believe Him. Then ask Him to help you suffer well, trusting that He's working something you can't yet see.
Remember that Jesus gets it. He suffered innocently. He suffered sacrificially. He suffered as an example. And He invites us to trust the Father the same way He did—even when it doesn't make sense, even when it's not fair, even when we don't understand.
Those who continue to trust God through intense suffering often gain a clearer eternal perspective. They see beyond the moment to what God is doing in the bigger story.
Two questions to sit with
Will we forgive those who have failed us in our grief? If you've suffered long enough, you've probably had friends say the wrong things or abandon you in pain. Can you extend grace to them the way Job eventually prayed for Eliphaz?
And how can we grieve with those who are grieving? How can we show up for people in pain without trying to explain away their suffering or offer easy answers?
These are hard questions without simple answers. But we worship a God who doesn't shy away from hard questions. He invites us to bring our anger, our confusion, our pain directly to Him. He can handle it.
And He promises that on the last day, everything will be made right. Justice will be complete. Every tear will be wiped away. Until then, we trust Him—not because we understand everything, but because Jesus showed us that God is trustworthy, even in the darkest suffering.
Want to continue this conversation? We'd love to hear from you. Send us an email and let us know what questions you're wrestling with or how we can support you.
