To be sad, sorrowful, or pained during the Christmas season is somewhat expected. Not so in summer, which makes life’s burdens especially hard to bear.

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I agree with Ryle’s quote, yet the question remains: "Lord... why is it so?"

The Lord doesn't fully answer that question. At least not in a way that satisfies us or makes the pain go away. But over the years I have become convinced of this:

Pain drives us toward Jesus.

And that is precisely where the tension begins. On the one hand we want to be knit closer to the heart of Jesus than we’ve ever been before. But we cannot be foolish—we must realize what the pathway looks like to get there: heartache, pain, lament.

When Isaiah peered around the corner of history to see his Messiah, how did he describe Him?

"He was despised and forsaken of men,
A Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief..."
— Isaiah 53:3

The way God structured the universe, the closer you or I walk with the Man of Sorrows, the more acquainted we will become with sorrows ourselves. It’s precisely why I grow reluctant to walk together for long periods of time.

Paul certainly understood the paradox that intimacy with Christ and the fellowship of suffering often go hand in hand:

"...That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings..."
— Philippians 3:10

That’s intriguing, because Paul didn't merely long to know the power of Christ's resurrection. He also longed to know the fellowship of His sufferings.

Can you imagine the boldness it took to offer up such a prayer? Paul understood exactly what he was asking. To know Christ more deeply often meant sharing more fully in His sufferings. Yet he prayed it anyway.

I'm not sure I possess that kind of courage.

The truth of the matter is, no crown comes without a cross. That was true for Jesus, and it is true for those who follow Him. Or as Charles Spurgeon put it, “There are no crown-wearers in heaven who were not cross-bearers here below."

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When Jesus says,

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."

My heart answers,

"Lord, I will... just as soon as You remove this burden."

When the Spirit whispers,

"Seek the LORD while He may be found."

I reply,

"Lord, I can barely get out of sorrow's bed, much less seek Your face."

When He says,

"Call to Me, and I will answer you."

I answer,

‍"Lord, I've called countless times, but all I hear is silence."

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Perhaps God's deepest intimacy comes disguised as your deepest hurts—not because pain is good, but because pain has a way of presenting you to the Redeemer Jesus, who is very good: “Behold, your God!”

And that’s okay.

The missionary Elisabeth Elliot was well acquainted with hardship and stated, "Suffering is never for nothing."

That is true, and it may provide some semblance of comfort. But perhaps the sadness is meant to linger, to remain.

If nothing else comes of it, other than bringing you and the Lord closer together, that has to be okay. The Lord is good. Very good, and He promises to see you through.

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Jesus said, "For those who have ears to hear, let them hear."

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