On a cold, February afternoon, my street team and I sat on the sidewalk for nearly an hour with a man named Tom*. In the shadow of the building behind him, he sat cross-legged against the wall, smoking a cigarette, and flying a small, ragged, cardboard sign.  

He refused the food I offered, but agreed to let us sit with him, though with a sense of hesitation.  

    Slowly the conversation took off, going deeper little by little. As we talked, people would come by and give him cash. We soon found that he was only collecting money to buy cigarettes, calling us his “good luck charms” for apparently attracting generous people to him. I felt a sense of disappointment but continued to listen as he began to share some family and financial struggles.  

As our time was coming to an end, one of my teammates asked if there was anything we could pray for. Tom turned the offer down, but said something that made me mentally stop in my tracks for a few moments: 

“Don’t get too close to God, because He’s going to test you, and He’s going to send you lots of suffering.” 

 
I gently explained to him that in the end, it’ll be eventually for the best, and my teammate quoted St. Augustine's famous, “our hearts are restless till they rest in Thee." After kindly insisting that he take the food I brought, and him finally accepting, my team and I left.  

Yet, for a while, I continued to be haunted by Tom’s words.  

He drew close

   At the time of this encounter, I was dealing with serious hurt, anger, brokenness, hopelessness, you name it. I didn’t know how I could trust God when I kept experiencing the same suffering repeatedly.  

   However, I was jarred by this man’s piece of “advice”. Why would I stay away from the One I know is all good? Suffering was certainly no stranger to me, but it was even more reason to run to Him.  
 
I then realized that I was just like Tom at that moment in my life.  

We all are, whether we believe it consciously or not.  

     I could go into an entire philosophical argument about the goodness of God reconciled with the problem of evil. It’s an important conversation to have. There are times, however, when syllogisms fall short. 

    I don't completely know why we suffer the things we suffer. How many times have I yelled at God, “why?” in the emptiness of my heart, when all I’ve done is try my best to follow Him? How many times have I wanted nothing more than to take matters into my own hands because I feel like He’s not coming through for me? 

I don’t know. But if I could talk to Tom again, I would tell him what I know for sure: 

God came close to us. Some might say too close.  

So close that He became one of us, experiencing the depths of pain.  He wept. 

He knows what true suffering is. He lived it. He died in it.   

    Sure, we can choose to withdraw or draw close to Him. But it doesn’t change the fact that He drew close to us, and that He chose to dive right into the mess of humanity. And the fact that His life did not ultimately end horrifically, but resurrected and exalted, should say something to us amid our own suffering.  

     I get it, Tom, more than you know. We’ve all been there. But there’s got to be more than the excruciating pain we have. That “more” is found “out of the cross”--the root meaning of the word excruciating, in fact, according to my old pastor.

   And what is found “out of the cross” is that which redeems and restores all wounds, bringing us back into union with the One from Whom we’ve been running since the dawn of time.  



*name changed

Hazel Jordan is an Office & Communications Assistant at Our Lady of Lourdes. She is currently pursuing a Master's in Theology at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. A recent graduate of the University of St. Thomas, she continues to be active in the faith community there, leading and developing a street ministry program that forms students to encounter the homeless in the Twin Cities. Among other things, she is a self-taught artist and musician, proudly acquiring graphic design and guitar/songwriting skills!