Insights into the Meaning of Suffering

by Carol Ann Velten GL 8

With gratitude we share with you this article by Carol Ann, as timely today as when it was first published in the June 1972 edition of The Annals of St. Anne de Beaupré, Ontario, Canada. Reprinted with permission.

I read with interest Father McKeon’s article on “Opportunities Unlimited,” [published earlier in The Annals of St. Anne de Beaupré] and his article gave me an idea to share with your readers my insights on the meaning of suffering. I am seizing the opportunity … to help people who, like me, have asked the question, “How did I get so lucky?” “Why me? An incurable illness.” Like Job, one wonders, at first, what he or she ever did to deserve such a fate.

At first, I found myself running from the truth, thinking to myself, “What a horrible thing to tell someone—that she has to live with pain for the rest of her life, especially when she is only 28 years old.” At the time, I thought a death sentence would have been easier to accept. I have a painful muscular condition in the form of arthritis. During the first year, I tried all sorts of medication and ran from one doctor to another looking for a cure; and I really hoped to get well. But, after the first year of running, I realized that the first doctor spoke the truth. Then, I came to St.

Anne’s [Basilica of Sainte-Anne-de-Beaupré in Quebec] last summer; and I asked that, if I could not be cured, then to let me know the meaning of suffering.

When I returned from St. Anne’s, a priest had sent me a book, Jesus, Joy of the Suffering, by Rev. Lawrence G. Lovasik, S.V.D. The first page said, “There are two ways of looking at pain. I can either see it with purpose or see it without purpose. Calvary teaches me the difference. The thief on Jesus’ left suffered just as much as the thief on the right. One cursed his pain, while the other asked to be taken up to the Lord. Pain itself is not unbearable; rather, the failure to understand its meaning is unbearable.”

Then, I read from Little Foxes That Spoil the Vines by W.B.J. Martin, “Did you experience so many things in vain? For the tragedy in many a life is not the suffering, but the suffering that yields no meaning . . . ‘We have had the experience, but we have missed the meaning.’”

These words were telling me to accept the challenge of suffering. It does not have to be a hopeless, empty experience. It does not have to sour or embitter a person towards life—Why such rotten luck?

“There was given to me a thorn in the flesh,” said St. Paul (2 Corinthians 12:7). In Charles L. Allen’s book, All Things Are Possible through Prayer, I read, “Three times he prayed that it might be removed; but, if he had to live with it, then live with it he would and get on with the main business of his life.” Instead of removing the

thorn in his flesh, God gave him strength to bear it. God can give us a quality of character that overcomes our self-pity, despair, or complaining, and makes us know that life can still be a triumphant experience.” And, finally, Paul tells us that in spite of our limited and handicapped selves, we can make a contribution to the world.

As you can see, my answers have come from various sources; and I believe these answers can help calm the anguished cries of all the Jobs in our world who are asked to suffer with our Lord. It has taken me three years to find meaning in suffering—“Ask and you shall receive; seek and you will find; knock and it shall be opened to you” (Luke 11, 9)—and I want to share that meaning with fellow sufferers.

Then … I received a letter from a close friend who wrote, “Never seek to avoid suffering. God will lead you into misery only so far as He knows you can endure the experience. Trust in His ‘Intelligence.’” My friend wrote, “Turn every experience in life into a learning experience so that you will be more able to aid others in their evolution. True empathy and sincere compassion come, at least, in their greatest depths, only from the traumas of one’s own existence.”

If one learns to surrender to God’s will, there are many lessons suffering can teach the sufferer. “Suffering cannot be an end in itself; it would serve no useful purpose if it did not teach the suffering individual a lesson useful to him in the future.”

First, suffering has taught me patience, to learn to live one day at a time. I am still hoping for a cure; but, for the time being, God has said, “Wait.” He is saying, “I want to teach you something first from the experience I have given you.” And, sometimes, the “waiting” is the hardest to bear. I am learning to give Him a chance. Again, Charles L. Allen, in his book, The Touch of The Master’s Hand, says, “Sometimes, He lifts the burden; at other times, He gives us added strength to bear the burden. Sometimes, He changes the circumstances of our lives closing some doors while opening others; at other times, He gives us the wisdom to use those circumstances for our good. Sometimes, He makes different the situation we face; at other times, He makes different the person in the situation.” Whatever He decides for each of us, He has decided it wisely; and is giving us an opportunity to grow spiritually.

Second, I am learning to appreciate our Lord’s Passion more, as I feel His suffering through my body. When the pain has been severe, and it has been on occasion, I have learned to look at the Cross; meditate on the sufferings of our Lord; and know that He died for me. Then, too, I have learned that I have been given an opportunity to unite my sufferings with His for the intentions which He pleads and offers Himself in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass; in reparation for my offenses and the offenses of our world; for the conversion of sinners; for the relief of the poor souls in purgatory; and for the wants of our Church. I have learned to offer up my sufferings for a Missionary.

Praise the Lord Anyway, a very interesting book by Frances Gardner Hunter, has taught me to be thankful no matter what. She says, “You will be amazed at what praising God will do to the things in life that we do not especially enjoy or that we complain about all the time. If you spend your time saying, ‘Praise the Lord’, you won’t have time to complain,” and she says that she never knew anyone who felt better after complaining. Can you say, ‘Praise the Lord’ when things do not go the way you want them to? 1 Thessalonians 5:18 says, “Always be thankful no matter what happens, for that is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” And, Romans says, “And we know that all that happens to us is working for our good if we love God and are fitting into His plans.” Ms. Hunter says, “‘Thank you Lord. I do not know what for, but thank you anyway,’ can bring fresh consciousness of the reality of God and a fresh dependence upon the power of God.” It is easy to praise the Lord when things are good; but, if you will just try it when things look hopeless, she guarantees you it will do something for your spiritual life. Why not give it a try and find out for yourself?

Once one starts delving into the meaning of suffering, there are thousands of lessons to be learned.

Fourth, I learned that there is an art of accepting as well as giving. From the article by Grace Hensel Davis, “No Thought of Return,” I picked up this thought: “You must learn to accept as well as to give. It is important to be able to do this in order to give pleasure to others,

too. Receiving with gratitude is as important as giving, for it is a generous God giving His abundant supply, taking care of our needs.” So, I am learning not to be too independent; and I am learning to give others the pleasure of giving, too, by helping me carry my cross.

Finally, I found myself feeling frustrated and furious one day because I could not do as I had wished—I still have not learned to die to self—and I thought my talents were being wasted. I felt rebellious. For instance, why give me a writing talent when I cannot use it or be able to develop it more fully? I read in The Way (an Opus Dei book), “So your talents, your personality, your qualities are being wasted. So, you are not allowed to take full advantage of them. Meditate well on the words of a spiritual writer: ‘The incense offered to God is not wasted. Our Lord is more honored by the immolation of your talents than by their vain use.’” Then I received a letter from my friend, and he reminded me of this: “Often times, God wishes to remind us that our only job in life is to ‘seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness.’ If our job is to develop in ourselves spiritual qualities—purity, honesty, faith, etc., then all else must be relegated to subordinate status.” He says that “our second job in life is to spread God’s Word to others, and that it can be done in many different ways, depending upon God’s desires.’” The words from my first catechism came back to me. My life does have meaning. It has a purpose. To know, love, and serve God—that is the answer.

Well, I have shared with you my kaleidoscope of ideas, all being put together to try to understand this great mystery of suffering. I feel that people need encouragement to carry their cross. And, often, it is just one thought that will be able to lift the person up from a fall into despair. Who can better understand the needs of a sufferer than one who has suffered herself?

2022 Postscript from Carol:

“Insights into the Meaning of Suffering” . . . [contains] insights I had discovered, with the help of the Holy Spirit, through my reading of different books and articles. What I learned helped me over the years. I hope the article will help others too. At 79, I still experience the pain I was struggling with back when I was 28 years old; but the difference, over the years, is [that] the pain became my companion, and not my enemy. The article in The Annals of St. Anne de Beaupré was my invitation to join CUSA. [The editor of The CUSAN at the time,] Kathrin [Taylor,] read the article and invited me to join CUSA. The rest is history. I have been a member of CUSA for 50 years. CUSA became the hidden blessing/gift I received in my struggle back in my late 20s to understand suffering—the pearl inside of the oyster. . . . Thank you, CUSA. Carol