notesbynora

Your story may be someone else’s survival guide

Scripture:
“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.”
— 2 Corinthians 1:3–4

We all walk through seasons of struggle—times when the weight of the world feels unbearable and the road ahead seems too steep to climb. But even in those moments, God is doing something sacred. He’s not only carrying us through the pain; He’s shaping us so we can one day reach back and help someone else find their way out of it.

When we’re hurting, it’s hard to imagine that anything good can come from the ashes. Yet, God has a way of transforming our deepest wounds into vessels of compassion. The comfort He gives us isn’t meant to stop with us—it’s meant to flow through us. Every tear we’ve shed, every fear we’ve faced, every moment we thought we wouldn’t make it—God can use all of it to help another heart heal.

I remember when my sister was diagnosed with glioblastoma, an aggressive brain cancer that changes everything about how you see time, faith, and love. I suddenly found myself juggling doctors’ appointments, medical jargon, and endless trips to Atlanta for her chemo and radiation treatments. I was exhausted—physically and emotionally—and I prayed constantly for strength just to keep going.

Then one day, a woman reached out to me. She had cared for her husband, who’d battled the same disease. She didn’t try to fix things or offer clichés; she simply shared what she’d learned. She told me how to prepare for long hospital days, how to pack food and save money on parking, and even little things like where to find quiet corners to pray at the hospital. Her calls were invaluable. She offered practical help and emotional peace, the kind that comes only from someone who truly understands.

Through her, I saw 2 Corinthians 1:4 come alive. God had comforted her in her season of sorrow, and she, in turn, comforted me in mine. She reminded me that even in suffering, God weaves together stories of compassion and connection that stretch far beyond what we can see. Her kindness taught me that when God walks us through a valley, He does so not just to bring us out—but so we can lead others through when their turn comes.

There’s a beauty in sharing from a place of experience. People listen differently when they know you’ve been there. You speak not from theory, but from survival. You can say, “I’ve walked that road, and I know the One who brought me through.” That kind of testimony carries power—it becomes a bridge between despair and deliverance.

Sometimes we wish God would remove our struggles altogether. But He often chooses instead to redeem them. The pain you’ve endured might be the exact story someone else needs to hear today. Don’t hide it—use it. Let it testify to the God who comforted you so completely that you now have comfort to give away.

When you see someone walking a path you once stumbled down, don’t pass them by. Offer a word, a prayer, or simply your presence. The same God who lifted you will lift them—and He may use you to do it.

Prayer:
Father, thank You for being the God of all comfort. Thank You for never wasting my pain but using it to strengthen and shape me. Help me to see others through the eyes of compassion, to recognize when someone needs the same comfort You gave me. Give me the courage to share my story and remind others of Your faithfulness. May my scars point to Your healing, and my struggles become a testimony of Your grace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.