What do you do when the bottom falls out—when the phone call brings bad news, or the doctor’s report changes everything? Most people just try to survive. But what if trials weren’t just something to endure—what if they could actually shape you into something stronger?
In James 1:2–4, the Bible gives us a surprising command: “Count it all joy…when you meet trials of various kinds.” At first glance, that sounds unrealistic—even cruel. But James isn’t asking us to plaster on a fake smile. He’s showing us a new way to look at our pain: not as wasted time, but as God’s workshop, where faith is refined and made unshakable.
James says to “count it all joy.” That doesn’t mean pretending trials don’t hurt. It means evaluating them differently—like an accountant who sees the difference between a temporary expense and a long-term investment. Trials may cost us in the short run, but they yield eternal gain.
Think of Paul and Silas in prison (Acts 16). They weren’t denying their pain, but they still sang hymns at midnight. That’s joy—not because of the suffering, but because of the God who was with them in it.
James describes trials as “various kinds,” literally “many-colored.” Just as there are millions of shades of color, there are endless variations of trials. For some, it’s sudden illness. For others, financial strain, broken relationships, or the slow grief of dementia in a loved one.
Some struggles are visible; others are hidden, just like colors we can’t see with the naked eye. James reminds us: none of us are immune. Trials come suddenly, in countless forms—but God is faithful through them all.
Faith is like a muscle—it grows under resistance. James says trials test our faith to produce steadfastness—not passive waiting, but active endurance. Like a marathon runner pressing forward, or a refiner holding metal in the fire until it shines, God uses trials to make our faith resilient.
William Carey, the missionary to India, lost years of Bible translation work in a fire. Instead of quitting, he started again—and the second work was even better. That’s steadfastness: faith that doesn’t collapse but grows stronger.
James ends with the goal: that we may be “perfect, complete, lacking in nothing.” He’s not promising flawlessness in this life, but wholeness—lives that are steady, Christlike, and fully equipped.
Think of Job, who endured devastating loss yet could say, “When He has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.” Or modern believers like Joni Eareckson Tada, paralyzed as a teenager, who has spent decades showing the world what resilient faith looks like.
So why does James tell us to “count it all joy”? Because when we see trials for what they really are—God’s tool to shape us—we find hope. Trials don’t get the final word. Christ does. And His goal isn’t to break us, but to make us whole.
This week, when a trial surfaces, take two minutes to “do the math.” Write down one sentence naming the pain, and one sentence naming what God could produce through it. Then pray it back to Him. You’ll find that even in the darkness, He is shaping you into something stronger.