In the past few months, my local church has journeyed through a heavy season of sorrow and loss. Three beloved members passed away in quick succession. The last two deaths occurred just weeks apart. We prayed together earnestly, standing in faith and asking God for their healing. As each sad announcement came, honest questions arose. Why did God not heal them? Why did these wonderful people, who were so loved by their families and so devoted to their faith, succumb to their illnesses in spite of our fervent prayers?

I found myself struggling for answers. What can you say when faith does not seem to “work” as you hoped? How do you comfort yourself and others when God appears silent, even as you cling to his promises?

With few answers and a heavy heart, I turned to Scripture for perspective. I happened to be reading through the Book of Job, and it struck me that Job had absolutely no idea there was a conversation unfolding in the heavenly realms. It was a conversation between God and Satan, one that would so drastically shape his life on earth. Remarkably, it was God who initiated the dialogue:

“Then the LORD said to Satan, ‘Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.’” (Job 1:8)

Satan, doubting Job’s motives, responded by challenging his integrity. Job only serves God because God has so generously blessed him. According to Satan, if those blessings were removed, Job would curse God to his face. God then permitted Satan to test Job, allowing suffering, loss, and heartbreak to strip him of everything. This included his children, his possessions, and even his health.

Job was crushed by grief. His wife, overwhelmed with despair, told him to curse God and die. His friends, searching for meaning, concluded that Job must have sinned gravely for such calamity to befall him. Everyone tried to assign a cause. They thought that if you do good, good things should happen, and if you behave badly, misfortune is bound to follow. I realise that we too often cling to this formulaic way of thinking. When tragedy strikes, we search for explanations, desperate to make sense of our pain.

I am reminded of another passage from the Gospels. Jesus’ disciples, on seeing a man blind from birth, asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2) Their question was sincere, yet bound by human assumptions. Surely someone is to blame for such suffering? Yet Jesus’ reply overturns those expectations: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.” (John 9:3)

Sometimes, faith is misunderstood as a spiritual formula. There can be a belief that if we show enough faith, or pray the right kind of prayers, God is obliged to heal or rescue us in the way we desire. In truth, God remains sovereign above our understanding. Our relationship with him is not transactional. God calls us to trust, even when his ways perplex and confound us.

Job’s story is an example for us. Despite overwhelming loss and difficult questions, Job does not abandon his faith in God, even when he cannot understand. He clings to a fragile hope, saying,

“Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” (Job 13:15)

Ultimately, Job’s suffering is not the result of personal failure or sin. Instead, it is an opportunity to grow in trust and to recognise God’s goodness and sovereignty. This is the God who “knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I shall come forth as gold.” (Job 23:10)

In our own church, watching faithful believers pray passionately yet still experience heart-breaking loss, has forced me to reflect on faith at a deeper and sometimes more difficult level. I do not believe God requires us to hide our pain or suppress our questions. Rather, Scripture gives us permission to grieve, to wrestle, and to be honest. Yet God also gently invites us to bring these painful places to him, believing that he sees a bigger picture even when it is invisible to us.

It is important to remember that Jesus himself experienced unanswered prayer. In Gethsemane, he pleaded, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” (Luke 22:42) The cup was not taken away, but through his suffering, the greatest work of redemption was accomplished. Jesus shows us a faith that can voice pain honestly, but ultimately surrenders to God’s will.

So what can we hold onto when prayers seem to go unanswered, and loss weighs heavily upon us?

1. God’s love endures, even in hardship:

Our circumstances, however painful, do not change God’s character. He is always good, loving, and faithful, even when we cannot see how these truths might apply.

2. Our perspective is limited, but God sees all:

Like Job, we may never have all the answers in this life. Yet God’s wisdom is perfect, and he invites us to trust him in the midst of the mystery.

3. God’s purposes are deeper than we realise:

Sometimes, through suffering, God accomplishes things that are greater and more lasting than healing alone.

4. Faith is forged in honest struggle, not just in answered prayers:

During those moments of deep disappointment, we are invited to move from a faith that seeks specific outcomes, to a faith that seeks God above all else.

Let us encourage each other with these words of Paul:

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Ultimately, our hope does not rest in temporary answers, but in the God who loves us with an everlasting love and promises that one day he will wipe every tear from our eyes. (Revelation 21:4)

Loss, pain, and unanswered prayer are never easy. Yet, as we journey through the shadowed valleys, may we find grace to echo both Job and Jesus. “Though he slay me, yet will I trust him.” And, “Not my will, but yours be done.” 

May our faith rest not in outcomes, but in the unchanging goodness and love of God.