The Spirituality of Suffering with Chronic Illness

I didn’t ask for celiac disease. Neither did you. And no amount of positive thinking makes chronic illness a gift you wanted to receive.

But here we are. And for those of us who believe in a God who redeems, the question becomes: what do we do with this suffering?

What This Isn’t

This isn’t toxic positivity. I’m not going to tell you celiac disease is “a blessing in disguise” or that “everything happens for a reason.” That kind of platitude minimizes real suffering.

Celiac disease is an autoimmune condition that damages your body, complicates your life, and causes real hardship. You don’t have to be grateful for it. You can wish it didn’t exist.

What This Is

This is about meaning-making. About the spiritual work of integrating suffering into a life that still has purpose, joy, and connection to God.

Not pretending the suffering is good. But asking: what can be redeemed from this?

The Christian Tradition on Suffering

Christianity has a long tradition of thinking about suffering. Not celebrating it, but wrestling with it.

Job suffered without explanation and demanded answers from God. God responded, not with answers, but with presence.

The Psalms are full of lament: “How long, O Lord?” The Bible doesn’t ask us to pretend everything is fine.

Jesus suffered. The cross isn’t a metaphor. Christianity’s central symbol is an instrument of torture.

Paul spoke of a “thorn in the flesh” that wasn’t removed despite his prayers, and found God’s grace sufficient.

None of this makes suffering good. But it suggests suffering isn’t meaningless or outside God’s concern.

Redemptive Suffering (Carefully)

The Catholic tradition speaks of “offering up” suffering, uniting it with Christ’s suffering for redemptive purposes.

This can be:

• A genuine source of meaning
• A way to transform helplessness into participation

This can also become:

• A way to avoid seeking help
• A reason to stay stuck instead of healing

The key is: redemptive suffering isn’t about seeking suffering or refusing to address what can be addressed. It’s about finding meaning in suffering that exists despite your best efforts.

Celiac disease can be managed. Do that. But even managed, it involves loss and difficulty. That’s the part that can be offered.

What I’ve Found Meaningful

Here’s what has helped me make sense of celiac disease spiritually:

Solidarity with the Vulnerable

Having a chronic illness made me understand vulnerable people in a way I didn’t before. The elderly who can’t eat what they want. The sick who have to plan every meal. The poor who can’t afford special food.

I’m more compassionate because I’ve been made vulnerable.

Dependence on God

I used to think I could handle anything. Control my life. Manage my body.

Celiac disease broke that illusion. I can’t control my immune system. I can’t will myself healthy. I depend on grace, medical, social, divine.

That dependence, honestly, has been spiritually formative. I trust God more because I’ve had to.

The Body as Holy

Celiac disease has forced me to pay attention to my body in ways I never did. To honor its needs. To listen when it speaks.

I’ve come to see my body not as a nuisance to be overcome, but as part of who I am, limited, mortal, sacred.

The Limits of Control

I can do everything right and still get glutened. I can plan perfectly and things still go wrong.

This has taught me surrender. Not passivity, I still take precautions. But acceptance that some things are beyond my control.

And in that space, paradoxically, there’s peace.

The Tension

Here’s the tension I hold:

I believe God is good. I believe suffering is real. I don’t believe God causes celiac disease to teach me lessons.

But I also believe God wastes nothing. That the suffering I experience can be integrated into a meaningful life. That redemption is possible even for things that shouldn’t have happened.

I don’t fully understand how. I just know that’s been my experience.

What I Don’t Believe

I don’t believe:

• God gave me celiac disease to make me a better person
• Everything happens for a reason (some things just happen)
• Suffering is always redemptive (sometimes it just hurts)
• If I had more faith, I’d be healed

These are toxic ideas that blame the sufferer and distort the character of God.

What I Do Believe

I do believe:

• God is present in suffering, not absent from it
• Meaning can emerge from what wasn’t meant
• Grace is sufficient even when healing doesn’t come
• Lament is holy, Jesus wept
• The body matters, even (especially) when it’s broken
• We can offer what we can’t fix

A Practice: Offering the Day

One practice that’s helped: offering the day, including its suffering, at the start.

“Lord, I offer you this day, including my celiac disease, the inconveniences, the limitations. Use whatever can be used. Redeem whatever can be redeemed. And give me grace for what simply must be endured.”

This isn’t magic. It doesn’t make problems disappear. But it frames the day in a context larger than my own comfort.

For Those Who Are Struggling

If you’re in a dark place with your illness, angry at God, doubtful, overwhelmed, I’m not going to tell you to try harder at meaning-making.

Sometimes the most spiritual thing you can do is survive. Show up. Take your medication. Eat safely. Keep breathing.

Meaning can come later. It doesn’t have to come on your worst day.

A Prayer for the Chronically Ill

Lord, I didn’t ask for this body. I didn’t choose these limitations.

But You know me. You formed me. You are not surprised by my struggles.

I don’t understand why I have this disease. I may never understand.

But I trust You’re here. I trust nothing is wasted. I trust that even this can be part of a story I can’t yet see.

Meet me in my suffering. Not with easy answers, but with Yourself.

Amen.