What If Your Struggles Are Actually Saving You?

There are seasons in life that feel like being stretched thin across too many pressures. You’re doing your best, maybe even doing good things, and still—something comes along to contradict your efforts, to trip up your intentions. Maybe it’s a harsh word. A misunderstanding. A loss you didn’t see coming.

It’s tempting to see these moments as interruptions or setbacks. But what if they’re something more? What if adversity isn’t a failure or punishment—but part of the path itself?

For centuries, the saints and mystics—including the early Celtic Christians—viewed hardship not as a detour but as a kind of refining fire. They understood that the uncomfortable moments, the unchosen struggles, often have a strange way of bringing us back to the only place where true peace is found: God.

Letting Go of the Illusion of Control

We live in a world that praises certainty, strength, and forward motion. But adversity has a way of unravelling all three. It pulls us into uncomfortable uncertainty. It exposes where we’ve placed our trust. And it slows us down whether we want it to or not.

Yet in this very undoing, something important is revealed: how much we’ve been relying on things that cannot ultimately hold us. Reputation. Comfort. The good opinion of others. A plan that goes exactly the way we imagined.

Adversity removes the illusion of control. And while that might feel like a loss at first, it’s actually a doorway into something much more solid.

The Celtic Path of Holy Resilience

In the Celtic Christian tradition, there’s a strong theme of learning through the land, the seasons, and the struggles. Life wasn’t expected to be easy. The saints didn’t pray for things to always go well—they prayed for strength, for humility, and for the presence of God in all things.

Stories of figures like St. Cuthbert or St. Brigid often highlight their response to adversity as a holy encounter. When storms came—literally or metaphorically—they didn’t assume they’d done something wrong. Instead, they looked for what was being refined in them. They accepted that part of the spiritual journey would be hardship, contradiction, and even being misunderstood.

They let adversity do its deep work, which was often the work of humbling, purifying, and re-centering.

Modern Struggles, Ancient Answers

Today, when things go wrong, we tend to look outward for answers. We try to solve the problem, distract ourselves, or look for someone to blame. The discomfort of being judged unfairly or having life go against us can quickly trigger anxiety, frustration, or self-doubt.

But if we allow ourselves to pause, to step back and ask what this difficulty might be offering—not just what it’s taking away—we can begin to see adversity as an invitation.

Difficulties have a way of stripping us back to the essentials. They remind us of our dependence on something greater. They make us ask deeper questions: Who am I when things don’t go according to plan? Where is my identity rooted? What am I really trusting in?

Adversity often becomes the catalyst for re-aligning our lives with what truly matters.

The Quiet Shift That Changes Everything

One of the most important things adversity teaches is that we’re not meant to find perfect peace in this world. As comforting as that sounds, it’s also liberating. It reminds us that our hope was never supposed to rest in the success of our plans or the approval of others.

Peace comes not from everything going right, but from being anchored in something deeper. Something unshakeable.

When life presses in and outer support falls away, we’re often led to discover the presence of God in a more intimate, unfiltered way. Adversity exposes what is temporary so that we can find what is eternal.

Responding Well: A Few Anchors for Hard Seasons

If you find yourself in a difficult season right now—whether that’s external conflict, internal heaviness, or a sense of being misunderstood—here are a few reflections to steady you:

  • You don’t need to be seen to be held. Let go of needing others to understand your motives. Let the peace of being seen by God be enough.
  • Your weariness is not a failure. When you’re tired, it doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It may mean you’re right where the work is happening.
  • You don’t need to escape discomfort immediately. Let the hard season show you what’s shifting inside you. It might be making space for something new.
  • Adversity can become alignment. Use these moments to ask where you’ve placed your trust, and gently return it to God.

Final Thoughts

The idea that suffering refines the soul isn’t always welcome in today’s culture. We’re told to fix pain fast, to find silver linings, to move on. But the Celtic saints and mystics remind us that sometimes, peace comes not through avoidance—but through surrender.

Not a giving up, but a letting go—of our grip on outcomes, our need to be right, our longing for ease. In that release, we find something far more steady: the quiet, unwavering presence of God walking with us in the very midst of the hard.


Books by Rob

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