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[Belah here – AI was not used to draft or write this description]

523-My Pain > Victim > Rebel > Repentance Journey

 

I have grown in my journey of processing pain. But I still slip up.

Today, I want to share with you a recent insight I’ve received on what I still need God’s help to work through.

I hope we can walk together, looking at our Savior, first and foremost to discover His purposes for our suffering.

Your suffering matters.

It matters to God.

It matters in His will.

There is comfort in knowing He has a purpose for it.

I’d love to share what God is teaching me through His word and what I hope will be encouraging for you in your story.

Let us be open to being guided by His Word first and foremost. Let us see His correction as His kindness that leads us to repentence because He is so, so good.

PS – Quote from a recent graduate:

After being celibate almost a decade, they are now intimate regularly and both are thrilled!

Wife: “Overall I’m crazy about the DYM system and process.  It worked for us like nothing else did in our 38 years of marriage.”

Husband: “I have learned that God is more important than sex. And sex isn’t a reward for doing what I should be doing any way”

Mic drop. 🙂

Would love to invite you to be part of the journey! delightyourmarriage.com/cc to learn more.

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[Below is an AI summary of Belah Rose’s original podcast]

Have you ever suffered… and then quietly judged God for it?

Maybe not out loud. Maybe not with words you would ever say publicly. But in your heart?

God, how could You?
How dare You?
Look at me — I’ve done all these things right.

That subtle internal accusation is more dangerous than we realize. It feels justified. It feels rational. It even feels righteous. But it is not.

And I want to share a very recent journey of mine — one I am still walking — that went from pain… to victimhood… to rebellion… to repentance… and finally, to gratitude.

When Pain Tempts Us to Judge God

Job lived righteously. He cared deeply about his children’s character before the Lord. He was conscientious. Faithful. Careful.

And yet devastating suffering came.

Scripture tells us:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8–9, ESV)

We are tiny. We cannot comprehend the mechanics of an atom, much less the wisdom of the God who spoke the universe into existence with a word.

When I say, “Let there be light,” nothing changes.

When He said it — everything changed.

Who am I to sit in judgment over His decisions?

And yet… that temptation is real.

It is so easy to subtly elevate my understanding above Scripture. To let “worldly wisdom” — especially around trauma and victimhood — become louder than God’s Word.

Now hear me carefully: compassion is biblical. Jesus wept. We are commanded to weep with those who weep. But Scripture must always sit wildly above cultural philosophy. It is not an either/or. It is not “a little Bible and a little psychology.” It is Scripture first — and anything else only insofar as it aligns with Scripture.

Otherwise, we miss it entirely.

Jesus Wept — But He Did Not Leave Mary There

In John 11, Jesus knew He was going to raise Lazarus from the dead. And yet when Mary came to Him weeping, He did not rebuke her.

He wept.

He entered her suffering. He felt her pain. He honored her grief.

And then He performed the miracle.

That is our model.

It is right to acknowledge pain. It is right to reach for safe, wise, loving humans who can hold that pain with you. (And yes — that cannot be a robot. You need a soul across from you. Someone who loves you.)

But here is the danger: pain can seep into identity.

Pain can quietly turn into victimhood.

And victimhood, if left unchecked, becomes rebellion.

“God, I deserve better.”

That is where I went.

My Slip into Victimhood

Recently, I experienced something painful relationally — with people who have known me for a very long time. People dear to me. I received words that felt vitriolic. Maybe they didn’t intend them that way. But that is how I received them.

It hurt deeply.

And I pulled away. I created distance. I justified myself. I replayed the injustice in my mind.

I told myself the story wasn’t over — I just wasn’t ready to circle back.

But if I am honest, I had moved from pain… into victimhood.

And from victimhood into quiet rebellion.

Because rebellion is not always loud. Sometimes it is simply this:

“I am justified.”

Scripture says something different:

“Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” (Romans 2:4, ESV)

It is His kindness that leads us to repentance.

Not shame.
Not humiliation.
Kindness.

Mary’s Response: Extravagant Love

Right after Lazarus is raised from the dead (John 12), Mary does something culturally inappropriate and breathtakingly beautiful.

She pours out expensive perfume — worth a year’s wages — on Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair.

The room fills with fragrance.

Judas criticizes her. Others likely judged her.

But Jesus defended her.

“Leave her alone.”

Her response to His tenderness was extravagant love.

Wherever the gospel is preached, her act is remembered.

She did not stay in grief. She did not stay offended that her brother died. She allowed Jesus’ kindness to transform her suffering into worship.

That is the invitation for us.

The Horizon of Christlikeness

I recently heard a metaphor from Dan Sullivan that struck me deeply: our ideal is like the horizon. The closer we get, the farther it stretches.

Jesus is our horizon.

We will never “arrive.” We will not wake up one day fully sanctified. But that horizon orients us. It gives us direction. It tells us the next right step.

So instead of measuring how far you are from the horizon, measure how far you’ve come.

Ten years ago, were you seeking Scripture above your feelings?

Five years ago, were you willing to repent?

Look at you now. You are leaning in. You are listening. That matters.

But growth requires repentance.

And repentance requires humility.

Choosing Repentance

So what did I do?

I sent messages.

Simple. Warm. Grateful. Breaking the ice.

I did not address every detail. I did not defend myself. I did not demand resolution.

I chose not to be a victim anymore.

Jesus tells us to pray for those who persecute us.

Who am I to cling to offense when I have been forgiven infinitely more?

So I prayed:

Forgive me for my pride.
Forgive me for my self-righteousness.
Forgive me for putting my feelings above Your Word.
Forgive me for intentional rebellion.
Forgive me for unintentional rebellion.
Help me not to be a coward.
Help me love enough to tell the truth.
Help me be humble.

And something beautiful happened.

Gratitude emerged.

From Rebellion to Gratitude

James tells us:

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete lacking nothing”