Yes, Lord – Even When It Hurts

  “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.”

Luke 22:42

It is easy to say “Yes, Lord” when everything is going well—when prayers are answered the way we expect, when life feels peaceful, and when our plans and God’s will seem to go hand in hand. But what about those times when things do not go as we had hoped? 

In my own journey, there have been many such moments. 

There were times when I had to resign from my job four times. Each time, I was entrusted with a new responsibility in the movement. These were not permanent full-time missions, but roles given for a specific time. I knew deep inside that it was the right thing to do. Looking back now, I can say with full confidence that God never let me down. He took care of every need, opened new doors and filled every gap. 

But in those moments, it was not easy. Questions from relatives and friends were difficult to answer. “Why would you leave a good job for something uncertain?” “Is it really worth it?” Their concerns came from love, but they left me unsettled. I had no clear answers—only a quiet trust in the One who called. 

Other struggles were more personal. There have been differences in the way I work and the way others do. Misunderstandings, delays and different ways of thinking have often tested my patience. Sometimes I have been tempted to withdraw, to become cold, or even to question if I am in the right place. 

Some of the deepest struggles, though, have been within the family. I have seen my mother pray for certain things for many years—prayers that still seem unanswered. There are times when, instead of standing by her in faith, my own response has been one of indifference or even harsh words. I am not proud of those moments, but they are real. And yet, through it all, God is still patient with me. 

One of the hardest seasons was when my wife Chinchu and I went through a miscarriage. No words can describe the pain of that loss. We had dreams, hopes and prayers—all brought to a sudden stop. And even now, as we continue to wait for the gift of a child, each passing month is a mix of hope and heartache. But in the middle of it all, we are slowly learning to say, “Yes, Lord,” again and again. 

There is also a close family member who has been without a job for nearly two years now. Watching him carry this weight, trying again and again while waiting patiently, has not been easy. We pray. We hope. And still, the silence continues. 

At the same time, I often come across people whose struggles are far heavier than mine. When I listen to them or spend time with them, my own problems suddenly feel smaller. Their quiet endurance teaches me to be more grateful and gentle with my own pain. 

Some pains come quietly. Others arrive suddenly and leave deep marks. 

Just two days before my wedding, Archbishop Abraham—someone who had guided and blessed me with such fatherly care—passed away. I still remember the shock and the silent ache on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. During the pandemic, I also lost mentors and dear friends—people who had played significant roles in my spiritual and personal journey. It felt like part of my own story was being taken away. 

And then we look around at the world—the wars, the pain in families, the broken relationships, the many who are struggling silently. Sometimes it feels like too much. 

But in these moments, we remember Jesus in the garden. He did not hide His pain. He was honest with the Father. Yet, He surrendered with courage: “Not my will, but Yours be done.” 

Saying “Yes, Lord” when it feels good is easy. Saying it when we are hurting—that is where faith becomes real. 

Our relationship with Jesus is not about pushing our prayers until they match our plans. It is about trusting His will, even when we do not understand it. It is about learning to walk with Him through both joy and pain—with grace, courage and love. 

As we continue this journey, may we pause and ask ourselves: Are we only joyful when God’s plans match ours? Can we trust Him even when there is no clear answer? Are we willing to say “Yes, Lord” even when it hurts? 

Let us keep walking, with hearts open—not only to His blessings, but to His will. Always.