Everything happens for a reason?

There are many catchphrases offered when we are in the midst of suffering or in the throes of trauma. Generally, they are well intentioned and are meant to offer hope or inspire perseverance. However, I have found that many of these common phrases cause more harm than provide comfort. Certainly, those who struggle with infertility, those who have lost a child, or those involved in adoption, have heard their fair share of these seemingly innocuous phrases: “someday you will have another child” or “you can always adopt” or “at least you have a family.”

Lately, the phrase I find most damaging is one I have often said myself. Thus, its harmful connotation escaped me until recently when I experienced my miscarriage.

Everything happens for a reason.

Or does it?

Now, let me be clear, I have said this when consoling a friend after a heartache or when a friend lost a job and wasn’t sure of his next direction. It has always seemed like the right thing to say. I believed I was offering hope in another possibility. I was simply encouraging one to look at a new and exciting path of unlimited potential! A door may be closing but a window of self-discovery awaits! And this is true but in using this phrase, I was also declaring that everything happens because God has decided this isn’t the right path and He is gently nudging us in another direction. Sure, it may hurt a little but ultimately we will have more joy in the course He determined for us. God’s hand is in the mix and, as the rest of the saying goes:

Everything happens for a reason. Even if that reason isn’t apparent, have faith that things will turn out to be just fine.

But wait, really?

You may be wondering at my sarcasm. Sure, on the surface, it seems like the perfect way to let go of the pain and surrender to joy. And maybe it is completely applicable to things like a career of finding your marriage partner. But the loss of a child? Or a terrible diagnosis? It isn’t the idea that an unanticipated future may still be bright, that bothers me. Rather, it is the undertone that God is somehow choosing all our sufferings and asking us to bear them for a specific reason. Yes, there are matyrs, but that isn’t what I am talking about here. I’m talking about God showering us with suffering specifically because we need fixing! This phrase plants a little seed in my mind that I wasn’t doing enough, that I needed to try harder, and that I wasn’t good enough just the way I was. Really, for those of us who are faithful, this phrase can lead to a form of spiritual abuse where we begin to believe that God would bless us if (and only if) we could just achieve this or simply accomplish that. Because if we were successful in this, He would have no reasonto let the suffering fall.

Now, can this belief lead us toward a healing relationship with a loving father?

I don’t think so! In the same 14 day window that I experienced the loss of a child through miscarriage, I had 8 additional major crises including the death of a beloved grandmother and the diagnosis of a life-threatening and life-altering disease in my living child. And when friends would unexpectedly have to deal with my tears, this was the catchphrase I most often heard. I got it—Not only will I be stronger because of this but I will even appreciate it in the future! Now if this was my first rodeo with major sufferings, I may have embraced it. I might have thought to myself that I had sailed through life thus far and I needed a lesson on how to persevere, how to let go, or how to simply dance in the rain. But I have already trekked that trail. Certainly, there is always more work to be done but I was still working on it; I hadn’t stopped growing or stopped searching. I really didn’t need another plate of suffering as a reminder.

Certainly, there are all sorts of “goods” that could result from the suffering I experienced upon this new loss. I’m not denying the “goods”, I’m denying that God was displeased with me and this was his answer. In a sense, I’m rejecting that I caused this to happen because I didn’t do enough, or more plainly, that I wasn’t enough. If I am to embrace these words, instead of a comforter or healer, God is now a punisher. If I am to accept this phrase, I am no longer simply holding onto hope but someone desperately trying to be everything I think God needs me to be just to keep the future sufferings at bay. Basically, it leads to a life of fear, a need to control, anxiety, helplessness and hopelessness!

So concurrent with the loss of my child, this phrase has been deleted from my repertoire of inspirational quotes. Now it is:

Everything that happens is transformative.

This subtle change removes the God as admonisher but still allows for the possible growth and maturation that can occur as a result of suffering. Where the original phrase turned me away from God (or actually made me feel that He had turned away from me!), this phrase helps me lean closer to God. Without His help, I know suffering would lead to bitter roots and my heart yearns for something more from this life. So I lean into God so He can use my vulnerability to transform me – transform me into someone with more endurance, more wisdom, more understanding, more confidence, more resilience, more patience, more compassion, and more freedom to let go.

Suffering is just part of life. We can’t avoid it. But what we can avoid is the damaging images of God that form from the words we hear and take in. And much to our unease, we have little control over what trial is coming next. However, we do have control over how we allow God to transform us while in the midst of it.

Do I believe my son received a terrible diagnosis specifically so I would be forced to surrender the tiny sliver of control I felt I had in keeping him alive? No, but I will use this experience to help me let go.

Do I believe I lost a child from miscarriage so I would be forced to appreciate every moment I have with my loved ones? No, but I will use it to transform my days into ones where I cherish even the daily grind.

Do I believe your child was taken to teach you a lesson about being more responsible or being more sacrificial? No, but I believe God can use this to transform you into someone who understands sacrificial love.

Do I believe you have struggled with infertility because you needed a lesson on jealousy or selfishness? No, but I believe God can use this to transform you to become fertile ground where even others can bloom.

Do I believe you were given up for adoption because you were unworthy or too much to handle? No, but I believe God can use this to transform you so you may feel your inherent worth.