Why the trials?

1 Peter 4:12-13 Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.

Sometimes it’s very difficult to rejoice in trials – especially when the trials affect ministry! Last week, one of our servers that hosted a number of Worthy sites had a database server collapse, but after several days of work, the server is now back online. Although the damage was minimal, the time needed to spend researching the issue and then rebuilding the databases took days.

However, since we had backups, I found myself attempting to remain joyful during prayer, focusing on the fact that the situation wasn’t as dire as it might have been.

It became easier to rejoice when the Lord reminded me of the time in 2002 and again in 2004 when every single Worthy Ministries site was wiped out by hackers.

Suddenly, these immense trials I was dealing with – suddenly didn’t seem so overwhelming in the grand scope of things!

But the question remains, why the trials? Someone once said, “A faith that can’t be tested isn’t a faith worth having!” Trials are meant to increase our faith in God – the greater our needs, the greater our trials, the greater our dependence on Him; and usually, it’s in this state of utter dependence upon Him that we enjoy the deepest, most intimate times with our God. Honestly, can any trial be a price too much for such eternal good?

Whatever trials you’re dealing with – it’s probably not as bad as it could be! Let’s not despise these trials, but realize that God is utilizing these trials to increase our capacity for Him! God is using trials to increase our productivity for the Kingdom – with so much work to be done, we all need to be as productive as possible!

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.

[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]

When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.

We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”

When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.

For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.

God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.

A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.

David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”