Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen? The Biblical Answer That Changes Everything

When tragedy strikes and suffering feels unbearable, this ancient question resurfaces with crushing weight. Here's what the Bible really says—and why understanding your true identity changes everything.

The question haunts us in our darkest moments.

When the doctor delivers devastating news. When the phone call comes in the middle of the night. When you're standing at a graveside, or sitting in the wreckage of a broken marriage, or watching your child make choices that will destroy them.

Why does God allow bad things to happen?

If God is good, why does He permit suffering? If He's all-powerful, why doesn't He stop it?

I've wrestled with these questions not just as a pastor, but as someone who lived them. My parents fled communist Romania when I was three years old, leaving me behind with my grandparents. For over two years, they didn't know if they'd ever see me again—or if I'd even remember them when we were finally reunited.

They risked everything, walking through the gap between desperation and hope, not knowing whether their gamble would lead to freedom or death.

Why did God allow that suffering? Why does He allow any of it?

The answer isn't simple, but it's transformative. And it begins with understanding who you really are.

The Question Behind the Question

When we ask "Why does God allow bad things to happen?" we're really asking several questions at once:

• Is God even in control?

• Does He care about my pain?

• Am I being punished?

• Is there any meaning to this suffering?

These are the questions that keep us awake at 3 AM. The questions that make us doubt everything we thought we believed.

But here's what most people miss: the Bible doesn't shy away from these questions. In fact, Scripture is filled with people who asked them—loudly, angrily, desperately.

Job. David. Jeremiah. Even Jesus Himself.

The difference is that the Bible doesn't give us a philosophical answer. It gives us something better: a framework for understanding suffering that transforms how we experience it.

What the Bible Actually Says About Suffering

Let's start with what Scripture makes crystal clear:

1. God Is Not the Author of Evil

James 1:13 states directly: "When tempted, no one should say, 'God is tempting me.' For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He tempt anyone."

God doesn't orchestrate car accidents, engineer cancer diagnoses, or plot to destroy your marriage. That's not His character, and it's not how He operates.

The world is broken because of sin—humanity's rebellion against God that started in the Garden of Eden. We live in a fallen creation where things decay, people make destructive choices, and systems fail. This isn't God's original design; it's the consequence of living in a world that has turned away from Him.

2. God Allows Free Will—Even When It Causes Pain

One of the most profound truths in Scripture is that God values your freedom enough to let you—and others—make choices that cause suffering.

He doesn't override human will to prevent every tragedy. A drunk driver has the freedom to get behind the wheel. An abusive spouse has the freedom to choose violence. A corrupt leader has the freedom to oppress.

Why? Because love without freedom isn't love at all—it's programming.

God created us for genuine relationship, which requires the ability to choose. And choice means the possibility of choosing wrong.

3. We Live as "Strangers and Foreigners" on This Earth

Here's where the biblical answer gets really interesting—and transformative.

The apostle Peter writes in 1 Peter 2:11: "Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul."

Did you catch that? Foreigners and exiles.

Paul echoes this in Philippians 3:20: "But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ."

This isn't just poetic language. It's a fundamental truth about your identity: you don't belong here.

If you've accepted Christ, you're a refugee on earth. This world is not your home. You're passing through a foreign land on your way to your true country.

How This Changes Everything About Suffering

Understanding your identity as a refugee to this earth completely reframes the question of suffering. Here's how:

When You Understand You're a Refugee, You Stop Expecting Comfort

Think about actual refugees for a moment. When someone flees war-torn Syria or escapes persecution in North Korea, they don't expect the journey to be easy. They don't assume they'll have comfortable accommodations, smooth travel, or warm welcomes everywhere they go.

They know they're in hostile territory. They know the journey will be hard. But they keep moving because they have a destination in mind—a place where they'll finally be home.

That's the Christian life.

Jesus didn't promise us comfort on this journey. In fact, He promised the opposite: "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" (John 16:33).

When you grasp that you're a refugee, suffering doesn't surprise you anymore. It doesn't shatter your faith. You expected opposition. You expected hardship. You're in foreign territory.

When You Understand You're a Refugee, You Focus on the Destination

My parents endured two years of separation, poverty, and uncertainty. They lived in refugee camps. They worked jobs where they were treated with contempt. They didn't know if they'd ever be reunited with their son.

But they kept going.

Why? Because they had a vision of freedom that was stronger than their present suffering.

The apostle Paul understood this: "For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal" (2 Corinthians 4:17-18).

Paul called his sufferings—which included beatings, shipwrecks, imprisonment, and eventual execution—"light and momentary." Not because they weren't painful, but because he was measuring them against eternity.

When you understand you're a refugee on the way to an eternal home, your perspective shifts. The cancer is temporary. The bankruptcy is temporary. The betrayal is temporary. The loss is temporary.

Heaven is permanent.

When You Understand You're a Refugee, You Find Meaning in the Journey

Here's perhaps the most powerful truth: God doesn't waste your suffering.

Romans 8:28 promises: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."

Notice it doesn't say God causes all things. It says He works in all things—even the terrible things He didn't author—to bring about good for those who love Him.

Your suffering isn't meaningless. God is using it.

• To develop character you couldn't develop any other way (Romans 5:3-5)

• To prepare you for assignments you can't yet see

• To give you empathy for others who are suffering

• To strip away the distractions that keep you from Him

• To prove the sufficiency of His grace (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Think about Joseph. His brothers sold him into slavery. He was falsely accused and imprisoned. He spent years suffering for crimes he didn't commit.

But after he was elevated to second-in-command of Egypt and reunited with his family, he told his brothers: "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives" (Genesis 50:20).

God took the worst thing that happened to Joseph and used it to save an entire nation—including his own family.

He'll do the same with your suffering.

But What About When It Feels Unbearable?

I know what you're thinking. This framework is helpful, but what about when the pain is so intense you can barely breathe? What about when you can't see past tomorrow, let alone eternity?

Here's what I've learned both from Scripture and from walking through deep valleys:

1. Jesus Himself Understands Your Pain

"For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin" (Hebrews 4:15).

Jesus wasn't just a refugee to earth in the cosmic sense. He was literally a refugee.

When King Herod sought to kill Him as a baby, Joseph and Mary had to flee to Egypt in the middle of the night (Matthew 2:13-15). Jesus experienced the fear, uncertainty, and displacement that comes with being hunted.

He grew up in poverty. He was misunderstood by His family. He was rejected by His community. He was betrayed by His friend. He was tortured and executed.

When you cry out to God in your pain, you're not crying out to someone who doesn't understand. You're crying out to someone who has been there.

2. Your Suffering Has a Time Limit

"For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5).

I won't minimize your pain by telling you it will end quickly. Some suffering lasts for years. But it will end.

If you're a follower of Christ, there is coming a day when "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21:4).

Your suffering has an expiration date. Your joy doesn't.

3. You Don't Have to Suffer Alone

One of the most important aspects of understanding yourself as a refugee is recognizing you're not traveling alone.

You're part of a community of fellow refugees—the church, the body of Christ. We're meant to carry each other's burdens (Galatians 6:2), to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), to provide for those in need (Acts 2:44-45).

If you're suffering in isolation, you're missing one of God's primary means of sustaining you through the journey: His people.

Don't try to be strong enough to handle it alone. Reach out. Let others help you carry the weight.

The Greater Purpose of Your Refugee Journey

Here's what I've discovered in my own life and in walking with others through suffering:

God isn't just getting you through the pain. He's preparing you for something.

Remember Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch from Acts 8? Philip was a refugee, displaced by persecution. The eunuch was also a refugee—an outcast, a man castrated and therefore shunned by his society, searching for God.

Philip's suffering positioned him for a divine appointment. Because he was willing to obey God's voice and approach someone completely different from himself, the gospel went to Africa.

Your suffering is positioning you too.

Maybe it's positioning you to reach someone else who will face similar pain. Maybe it's preparing you for leadership in areas you never imagined. Maybe it's stripping away the distractions that were keeping you from your true calling.

I wouldn't be writing this if my parents hadn't taken the refugee journey they took. Their suffering—and mine—opened doors that would have never opened otherwise. It gave me a story that connects with people in ways that a comfortable suburban upbringing never could.

What you intended for evil, God intends for good.

Living as a Refugee Changes How You Respond

When you understand your true identity as a refugee—a citizen of heaven temporarily living on earth—it changes how you respond to suffering:

You stop asking "Why me?" and start asking "What now?"

The question isn't why God allowed it. The question is: Now that it's happened, how will I respond? Will I let it draw me closer to God or push me away? Will I let it make me bitter or better?

You stop demanding explanations and start trusting character.

You may never know why God allowed a specific suffering. But you can know His character. He is good. He is faithful. He loves you. He has proven this at the cross.

Sometimes you have to move forward with trust instead of understanding.

You stop living for comfort and start living for impact.

When you realize this world isn't your home, you stop trying to build a kingdom here. You start thinking about what matters for eternity. You start taking risks for the kingdom of God that you'd never take if you were trying to preserve your comfort.

You become dangerous in the best possible way—dangerous to the kingdom of darkness, dangerous to injustice, dangerous to the status quo.

Your Next Step

I realize this is a lot to process. The question of suffering is one of the deepest, most personal questions we face.

But here's what I want you to know: your suffering isn't the end of your story. It's a chapter. A painful chapter, yes. But not the final one.

The final chapter is your homecoming—when you step into the country you've been traveling toward your whole life. When you finally see Jesus face to face. When the refugee journey ends and you're home at last.

Until then, you keep walking. You keep trusting. You keep hoping.

And you remember: you're not alone on this journey. Jesus has been here. He understands. He's with you every step of the way.

"And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age" (Matthew 28:20).

This framework for understanding suffering—rooted in our identity as refugees to this earth—is explored in depth throughout my book, Refugee: Embracing the Journey as Strangers and Foreigners on This Earth. If this perspective resonates with you, I'd encourage you to read Chapter 4 ("The Greatest Refugee") and Chapter 5 ("A New Citizenship"), where I unpack what it means to live as a citizen of heaven in a broken world.

The book emerged from my personal refugee story—my parents' flight from communist Romania and our family's two-year separation—and connects it to the broader biblical narrative of God's people as refugees throughout Scripture. It's written for anyone wrestling with their purpose, their identity, and what it means to live faithfully when life doesn't make sense.

Get Your Copy of Refugee (20% off code Zoran20)

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: If God is all-powerful, why doesn't He just stop all suffering?

A: God's power includes the power to grant genuine freedom. Stopping all suffering would require either removing human free will (turning us into robots) or immediately judging all sin (which would mean immediate death for everyone). Instead, God gives us time—time to choose Him, time to grow, time to be redeemed. He's delaying final judgment out of patience, "not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance" (2 Peter 3:9).

Q: Does God ever cause suffering as punishment?

A: In the Old Testament, there were times when God used consequences (including suffering) to discipline His people or bring them back to Him. However, if you're in Christ, you're under grace, not law. Jesus bore the punishment for your sin on the cross. God may allow consequences of sin to play out (if you drink poison, you'll get sick), but He's not gleefully inflicting suffering as revenge. "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Romans 8:1).

Q: How do I know if my suffering has a purpose?

A: All suffering can have purpose if you allow God to work through it. The question isn't whether your specific suffering was "meant to be" in some predetermined way, but whether you'll allow God to redeem it. Joseph's suffering had purpose because he chose to trust God through it. Job's suffering had purpose because he refused to curse God. Your suffering will have purpose if you bring it to God and let Him work through it.

Q: What about people who suffer and never come to faith—was their suffering pointless?

A: This is one of the hardest questions. From a biblical perspective, God offers everyone the opportunity to know Him, and He's not willing that any should perish (2 Peter 3:9). But He doesn't override free will. Some people reject God despite (or even because of) their suffering. That doesn't mean their suffering had no meaning—they still experienced moments of love, beauty, relationship, and the common grace God gives to all humanity. But it does mean they missed the ultimate redemptive purpose God offered. This is precisely why sharing the gospel matters so urgently.

Q: How can I help someone else who's suffering?

A: Often the best help isn't answers—it's presence. Job's friends did well when they simply sat with him in silence for seven days (Job 2:13). They failed when they started trying to explain his suffering. Practical help matters: bring meals, help with childcare, offer to listen. And most importantly, point them to Jesus—not in a preachy way, but by being the presence of Christ to them in their pain. Sometimes your role is simply to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15) and remind them they're not alone.