Let Suffering Lead to Gentleness, Not Bitterness

As suffering rattled through our lives, I felt like an acorn clinging to a branch as an axe sliced into the trunk of my tree. We spun in every direction as we tumbled to the ground, until we finally hit the leafy, forest bottom.

We tried to make the best of it, to see the good. Here’s a nice, shady spot to dig our roots deep. Maybe now we’ll begin to grow. Instead, we were further kicked, tossed, and thrown, receiving a few cracks to our shell throughout. When it all finally ended, I didn’t dare believe it.

As we suffer, and our bodies and hearts finally begin to recover from the richeting and shaking we’ve received, bitterness settles in easily as if it had always lived there inside us. Without any effort, our words are slightly sharpened to an edge from the cracks we’ve endured. “Of course, bad things always happen to me.” “I mean, is it any surprise something like this would happen again?” The people we love distort to look like our enemies in our vision—rather than come together to recover and carry one another, we snap and snarl instead. Not a single offense gets covered, and each one endures our full wrath.

What doesn’t come naturally is gentleness. Yet this is the calling of the Christian: to not be formed into a crusted, bitter-hard shell from our suffering, but to gently flourish into a beautiful, strong tree, bearing fruit for others to receive.

The Molding Power of Suffering

When the axe comes for our trunks, when tree-cutting season inevitably comes, people often remind us of Romans 8:28—for God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God.

This is intended to fall on our ears as a comforting promise, but when it stands alone with us in the midst of a trial as we soak our pillow with tears and bark splinters below, we may wonder what that good could possibly be.

If we continue to read past verse 28, God defines the good. “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified” (vv. 29–30 ESV). Sanctification is the goodness beyond our eyesight. God predestined each believer before the foundations of the earth to become Christ-like, and he promises to see each of them to glorification (Eph. 1:4; Phil. 1:6; 1 Thess. 5:23–24).

The Apostle Peter reminds the persecuted Christians of this truth as well: “In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:6–7). 

Our suffering is never in vain. Though it may seem endless and useless now, and the good is clouded by the smoke of trials, God promises to use it to shape us into Christ. But suffering itself can also mold us—it has its own hands trying to form us out of our true image, and one of those forms is bitterness. We must turn our face from those temptations and look for the work of gentleness the Spirit is striving to work in us. 

Cultivating Gentleness in the Tossings

All my life I wanted to be gentle as the Bible directs us. I thought gentleness and meekness meant I never raised my voice against injustices, and spoke rarely at all—but if I must speak, it must be in feathery tones. It was a stoic quietness and indifference, with a smile here and there. I envisioned a woman with long, flowing hair wearing a simple gown and a wreath of wildflowers on her head, petting wild rabbits while deer followed behind. 

This is not what the Bible demonstrates as gentleness. Paul defined it for the church in Philippi: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:4–7).

Gentle people aren’t gentle because they simply bottled all their frustration and anger inside. A gentle spirit isn’t cultivated through gritted teeth, clenched fists, and a strained smile. Gentleness grows in a heart set on this truth: the Lord is near (Phil. 4:5b). A gentle woman holds a deep, residing peace in her heart that comforts her anxieties. She knows her life is in God’s hands, therefore anything that passes by her, it first passed through him. She trusts in the full truth of Romans 8:28–30.

With this in her heart, she reacts to and thinks reasonably about conflict and stress. She believes God won’t abandon her but is with her even still. Through her gentle spirit, she sets her eyes on eternity so the troubles of life do not frazzle her as much. When people hurt her, she finds comfort in knowing her perfect God never will, even as she speaks up for her rights. When she is without, she finds contentment knowing God is her provider. 

A gentle spirit sets its gaze upward: “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory” (Col. 3:1–4). With her mind set on the glory of eternity, her response to life can be a gentle one.

As poet and author Wendell Berry wrote in A Timbered Choir, “The seed is in the ground. Now may we rest in hope while darkness does its work” (p. 131). After much tumbling from suffering, we will be enclosed in the cold dark. Wait with gentleness, for even the darkness is not dark to our Lord; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with him (Ps. 139:12). Though we may feel unable to put much effort forward, our God sees in the dark and works even there.

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Lara d'Entremont

Hey, friend! I’m Lara d’Entremont—follower of Christ, wife, mother, and biblical counsellor. My desire in writing is to teach women to turn to God’s Word in the midst of their daily life and suffering to find the answers they need. She wants to teach women to love God with both their minds and hearts.

https://laradentremont.com
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