I used to ask God why.
Why me?
Why this?
Why did I have to feel it so deeply, carry it so long, or fight so hard to come out of something that felt like it would destroy me?
As I reflect, some of the most painful moments in my life were wrapped in purpose.
But I couldn’t see that purpose while I was crying in my car, trying to escape the turmoil at home, or being emotionally abused by the ones I loved. I couldn’t see the breakthrough while I was knee-deep in heartbreak, disappointment, and confusion.
But now, I see it.
The more pain I experience, the more opportunity God gives me to express that pain through my work. Ironically, I create my most powerful pieces while navigating pain. That’s when my voice becomes clearest. The songs I create, the videos I film, and the book I am currently writing is meant to help others turn their pain into purpose. My story continues to unfold as I endure painful situations.
After I had my son, I endured months of recovery. Not only did I have him by C-section, but I also underwent a stomach surgery that removed part of my intestines due to my long battle with Crohn’s disease.
After I left a toxic relationship, I started my women’s ministry.
After I was rejected by multiple jobs, I stepped out in faith and started my own company.
Pain was the doorway.
Rejection was the redirection.
God wasn’t punishing me, He was preparing me.
I know that sounds cliche and would probably make you mad. trust me. I get it. Enduring pain doesn’t evoke much opportunity for praise or gratitude. It actually makes you want to not seek God' at all and turn away from the things he’s showing you. Pain influences your relationship with God. It has the potential to turn you away from him or toward him if you have the right perspective. Instead of looking at it as why me, look at it as “This must be an opportunity to show somebody how to endure the pain as well.”
It’s exhausting, yes, but purpose is never comfortable or predictable. It’s an opportunity to not let the pain consume you.
Your pain is never wasted.
The very things you thought would break you are the things God is using to build a message, a mission, and a movement through you.
He hand-picks us for purpose, but sometimes that purpose has to be birthed through suffering. And even in the suffering, He doesn’t leave us.
He sits with us in the mess.
This morning, all I wanted to do was run.
Run from the weight of my personal life.
Run from the chaos.
Run from the pain.
I wanted to get in my car, drive far away, and just be alone with my thoughts.
But instead, here I am.
Even in the aftermath of heartache, I’m sitting with the Lord, writing this message to you.
Some of us are carrying callings that were carved out of childhood wounds, failed relationships, mental battles, miscarriages, church hurt, or silent seasons of loneliness.
And still, God says, “This is the one I’ll use.”
That pain wasn’t just a storm—it was an assignment.
You’ve been marked to light the path for someone else.
And your authenticity will be the bridge to their breakthrough.
If you’ve ever asked God,
“Why did I have to go through all of that?”
Here’s the answer:
Because someone else won’t survive it unless they know you did.
That’s what I call a painful purpose.
It’s heavy. But it’s holy.
Your pain can become your passion.
Your story can become your strategy.
Your scars can lead someone else to salvation.
Let God use it.
Not after you’ve figured it all out but now.
Even while you’re healing. Even while you’re crying. Even while it still stings.
There is power in your testimony even the parts that still make your voice shake.
You are not too broken to be used.
You are not too far gone to be called.
You are right where you need to be.
And God is right there with you.
This is what a painful purpose looks like:
You endure.
You overcome.
And then you become the evidence.