Why God Permits Our Struggle
Have you ever wondered why God allows us to be tested, why He permits us to stumble, and why He doesn’t simply make us perfect from the start?
Look at the angels. They were made in glory, eternal spirits, burning with intelligence. They saw clearly, chose swiftly. One act of obedience or disobedience fixed their eternity. And in that moment, some fell — irretrievably. Their wills were locked, their fate sealed. They remind us of the weight of freedom: when a creature knows fully and still rebels, that rebellion cannot be undone.
But man is different. Flesh and spirit, dust and breath, we walk in time. We do not see all at once. We learn slowly, we falter, we rise again. We are not fixed from the first choice. We are pilgrims.
And this is not a defect — it is a design of mercy. God allows us to fall so that we may rise. He permits us to be weak so that we may discover His strength. He gives us freedom not only to choose Him once, but to choose Him again and again — even after turning away.
Think of Peter, who denied his Lord three times. He wept bitterly, but those tears washed him clean, and he rose stronger, humbler, more faithful. Think of Job, stripped of all he had, yet clinging to God until his faith became a beacon. Think of yourself — how many times you have fallen, and how many times you’ve been lifted back up by grace.
Why? Because God desires children, not slaves. Lovers, not prisoners. Saints, not statues. He wants you holy — not by compulsion, but by love and wisdom, forged in the fire of trial, matured by the experience of weakness, and crowned with mercy.
The angels teach us the seriousness of freedom. But humanity — you and I — reveal something greater: the patience of God, the tenderness of His mercy, the unimaginable dignity of being able to fall and rise again until we are made like His Son.
So when you fall, do not despair. Rise. When you are tempted, do not fear. Resist, and if you stumble, return. For every return makes your love freer, your “yes” stronger, your holiness more radiant.
This is why He permits it all. Not to crush you, but to crown you. Not to shame you, but to shape you. Not to expose your weakness, but to reveal His strength in you.
As St. Augustine said: “God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to allow no evil at all.” And so your very wounds, healed by grace, become the places where His glory shines the brightest.