Why does God allow pain and suffering even when we pray?

When we ask why God allows pain and suffering even when we pray, we are not asking an abstract theological question—we are asking a deeply personal one. I know that question intimately, not only from Scripture, but from my own life. Just recently, in my home Bible study, I prayed that God would not merely walk with me through what I am facing, but that He would carry me through it. I prayed that way because I know my limits. I cannot endure the constant emotional strain of endless “what ifs” on my own. What I am facing is not theoretical. I have learned that I may be dealing with early-onset Alzheimer’s–type brain loss, traumatic brain damage, or one contributing to the other. MRIs show a loss of gray matter, and the migraines I have suffered with for years have now become unbearable, no longer responding to over-the-counter medication. 

Much of this traces back to my youth. Like many young men, I lived as though I were indestructible. I rode motorcycles recklessly, abused alcohol and drugs, and suffered multiple serious concussions and back injuries that should have put me in a hospital. Instead, I numbed the pain and kept going. What I thought was normal then has become costly now. I share this not for sympathy, but for honesty. Either way—whatever the final diagnosis—I know that one day I will leave this world and go home to be with the Lord. And that reality brings us directly back to Scripture. Throughout the Bible, God’s people prayed—and still suffered. Job was righteous, yet lost everything (Job 1–2, NKJV). Paul pleaded for relief from his thorn, and God answered not by removing it, but by saying, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NKJV). James reminds us that trials test our faith and produce endurance, shaping us into something complete (James 1:2–4, NKJV). Peter tells us not to think it strange when fiery trials come, but to commit our souls to God as to a faithful Creator (1 Peter 4:12–19, NKJV). 

What I am learning—and what Scripture has always taught us—is that God does not promise a pain-free life. He promises His presence. He promises purpose. He promises that suffering is not wasted. “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God” (Romans 8:28, NKJV)—not that all things are good, but that God is at work in them. There is also deep comfort in knowing that God is not only with us, but He knows our end from our beginning. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you… When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned” (Isaiah 43:2, NKJV). And even beyond our own lives, God remains faithful. He will be with those we love when we are no longer here—comforting them, sustaining them, and being to them what we can no longer be. 

This is why Jesus Himself prayed, “Nevertheless, not My will, but Yours, be done” (Luke 22:42, NKJV). Faith does not deny pain. Faith entrusts pain to a God whose wisdom exceeds ours and whose love never fails. So when we pray and suffering remains, it does not mean God has ignored us. Often, it means He is doing something deeper than relief—forming trust, refining faith, and teaching us to rest not in outcomes, but in Him. And one day, this story will end as Scripture promises: “And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying” (Revelation 21:4, NKJV). Until that day, we walk—and sometimes are carried—by a faithful God who never lets go.