Nobody signs up for hard times. Nobody wakes up on a Monday morning and thinks, "I hope today brings me some pain, some loss, or some overwhelming difficulty." And yet, if you have lived long enough, you know that hard times are not the exception. They are part of the story for every single person who has ever drawn breath.
But what if those hard times were not the enemy you thought they were? What if the very trials that feel like they are breaking you are actually building you into something stronger, something more complete, something closer to who you were created to be?
That is the radical and almost uncomfortable claim found in James 1:2-4, where the author tells believers to consider it great joy whenever they experience various trials. Not if they experience them. Whenever. The word leaves no room for escape. Trials are coming, or they are already here, or you just came out of one. And yet the instruction is not to despair but to find joy, because the testing of faith produces endurance, and endurance, when it is allowed to do its full work, produces maturity, completeness, and a life that lacks nothing.
The House on Stilts
There is a powerful image that captures this truth well. Imagine driving through a coastal town after a hurricane has torn through it. House after house has been reduced to rubble. Foundations are bare. Walls are gone. Belongings are scattered. But every so often, standing tall above the wreckage, is a house built on stilts. The storm came for that house too. The same wind, the same rain, the same fury. But because of the foundation, it is still standing.
When life is calm and the weather is pleasant, a house on stilts can seem like an unnecessary complication. Why climb stairs every day when you could just walk in through a ground-level door? But when the storm arrives, the wisdom of that foundation becomes undeniable.
Jesus is that foundation. When you build your life on him, when you run to him in the middle of the trial rather than away from him, you become the house still standing when the storm passes. And people who lost everything in that same storm will want to know how you did it.
Trials Come in All Shapes
The Greek word used in James for trials carries a range of meanings. It can refer to an experiment, an attempt, a proving, or a temptation. That breadth is intentional. Trials do not arrive in one predictable form. Sometimes the trial is a person who pushes every button you have. Sometimes it is a season of financial hardship that seems like it will never lift. Sometimes it is grief, or illness, or a relationship falling apart, or a sin you cannot seem to break free from.
And that last one deserves special attention. Secret sin is powerful sin. The enemy of your soul is like a fisherman casting different lures into the water, testing which one you will bite. He tries one, and if it does not work, he reels it in and tries another. But the moment you stop biting, and the moment you run in the other direction, you rob him of the information he needs to keep targeting you with that particular temptation. And God's grace, available in abundance, meets you every time you turn toward him rather than away.
Peter and Judas: Two Responses to Failure
One of the most striking contrasts in all of Scripture is the parallel between Peter and Judas in the hours surrounding the crucifixion. Both men failed Jesus in significant ways. Judas betrayed him with a kiss. Peter denied even knowing him, not once but three times, just as Jesus had predicted.
The difference was not in the severity of the failure. The difference was in what each man did next.
Judas tried to fix it himself. He returned the money. He felt the weight of his guilt. But without turning to Jesus, he had nowhere to put that guilt, and it destroyed him.
Peter wept bitterly and ran back to Jesus. And Jesus, risen and standing on the shore, did not greet Peter with condemnation. He asked him three times whether he loved him, giving Peter the opportunity to affirm his devotion three times, once for each denial. Then he commissioned him. Feed my sheep. Feed my lambs. The man who had failed spectacularly became one of the most significant figures in the history of the early church.
The trial did not end Peter. It defined him. And it only defined him that way because he ran toward Jesus instead of away from him.
The Dentist's Chair
Moriah’s story reminds us what it feels like to be in the middle of a trial you did not choose and cannot escape. As cute little Moriah sat in that dentist's chair, I watched her go through a procedure that was uncomfortable and frightening, knowing I had the ability to pick them up and walk out, but I also knew that what she was enduring was necessary for her health and future. Every tear is seen. Every moment of pain is felt. But I didn’t act, because the trial has a purpose.
God is in that room with you. He has not missed a single tear. He has not looked away for a moment. If you are still in the chair, it is because what you are going through is working something in you that could not be worked any other way. It is for your good and for His glory.
Lacking Nothing
James closes this passage with a breathtaking promise. Endurance, when it is allowed to complete its work, produces a life that is mature, complete, and lacking nothing. The word for lacking nothing carries the image of a collection with every piece finally in place. Whatever feels missing in you, whatever feels broken or incomplete, God is using the very trials you are walking through to fill in those gaps.
Your struggle is not a waste. Your tears are not for nothing. The difficulty you are facing has a purpose and a plan, and the one who is walking through it with you is both good and capable.
Run to him. Lean on him. Let the trial do its work.