John Piper’s book, Providence was published several years ago, and I lost no time in putting my name on the pre-order list. The book proved to my soul to be nothing short of using God’s Word to help me see Him in every detail of my life.
Though it’s been a couple of years since I read it, I still find its truths gently reshaping my thoughts. Most recently, it’s impacted how I view my parents. My wonderful, loving parents-who truly cared for me-are not without their faults. For years, I saw those shortcomings only through the lens of pain, convinced their failures had left permanent damage. But now, I see something more. I see God’s providential design.
I used to wrestle with things I thought would never be made right-wrongs I believed required forgiveness, burdens I carried as baggage. But if I truly believe that God is sovereign in all things, and that He works all things-good and bad-for our good and His glory, then I must also believe that nothing from my past is wasted.
Viewing parent-child relationships through the lens of God’s sovereign hand has transformed the sorrow and regret I once felt entitled to into grace and peace. No parent is perfect. I know that my own children will one day have to wrestle with the messy legacy of their imperfect, earthly parents. But the comfort is this: God’s purposes are not thwarted by our failures or our parent’s failures. His providence weaves even our shortcomings into something beautiful for those who love Him.
Joni Eareckson Tada was just 17 years old when a diving accident left her paralyzed from the neck down. She has spent decades in a wheelchair, yet her life radiates the beauty of one who has learned to trust God’s providence in deep suffering. She often says that all of us suffer from some kind of handicap. Not everyone sits in a wheelchair, but many of us carry frozen places in our hearts-areas wounded by betrayal, neglect, loss, or disappointment.
Her testimony reminds me that suffering-whether physical, emotional, or relational-is not who we are or what defines us.
Suffering can actually become the very tool God uses to soften, shape, and sanctify us. What the world sees as loss, God redeems as gain. And like Joni, I want my life to be marked not by what wounded me-but by the Savior who healed me.
Joni Eareckson Tada’s disabilities are not what define her. Anyone who has heard her speak or read her books quickly sees that her life is all about her Savior. Her physical limitations have not become her identity-they’ve become the platform for her dependence on Christ. She often says she would not go back and change anything about the day of her accident. Why? Because through her suffering, she has come to know the depth of God’s love and sufficiency in ways she never would have otherwise. God has used Joni’s brokenness not only to bring her own soul healing but healing to thousands of people have been ministered by her testimony of Christ. That is something that would never have happened if her body had been kept whole.
Just as Joni has seen lives transformed by Christ because of her pain, my mothers life was impacted as a result of the pain she knew well. She often felt misunderstood and disconnected from her own mother-a quiet ache that followed her for much of her life. As a result, she determined to listen and know each of her daughters and prayed desperately that the Lord would give her a healthy relationship with each of us through the years. In doing so, she allowed God to transform her grief into purpose. If my mother’s relationship with her mother had been perfect, she might not have longed for that closeness so deeply-or fought to give it so freely. God redeemed through her what had once been broken.
I too have seen God use the failures in my parents’ lives to bring about a specific purpose in my own marriage, parenting, and lifestyle. What I took away from childhood as hurt, has become the blossom of something restored in my own life. If those things had been right in my upbringing, perhaps I wouldn’t value them the way I do now. Perhaps I wouldn’t have the opportunity to see God take something broken from a generation ago and cause me to treasure it so deeply that I seek to make it whole in my life.
So many people have written books about how damaged they were by how they were raised. But I’d like to pose a different idea-one that may sound new to modern ears, but is as old and true as Scripture itself: only sin has the power to truly damage us-and in Christ, even that no longer holds us captive.
Yes, things that have happened to us can cause real hurt. Pain is undeniable. But pain does not have the final word. In fact, those very things-what the world might label as trauma-can become the very tools God uses to carve our hearts into something strong, compassionate, and beautifully shaped into the image of His Son. This is not denial. It’s redemption.
I don’t need to keep bringing up how the choices or methods of my parents may have caused harm. Truthfully, I’m sure everyone on earth could write volumes about the things their parents did-or didn’t do-that were painful. But that is not the point. That is not the purpose of my story. And it certainly is not the defining feature of who I am.
I was created by God’s perfect design and placed in the exact home He intended, raised by the very parents He chose, with the exact weaknesses He knew they would have. Their flaws shaped me in ways that were not accidental, but purposeful-tools in His hands to carve out the woman I am becoming.
To hold on to past pain, to dwell in what the world calls ‘trauma,’ is to suggest that God is not sovereignly good. And if I don’t believe that, then I’ve stopped worshiping the God of the Bible and replaced Him with myself-trusting my judgment over His.
My identity is not rooted in what went wrong but in the One who makes all things new. My parents’ imperfections-real as they are-hold every potential for good in my heart. In the hands of God, even those flaws can be used in beautiful, redemptive ways. That is the power of grace. That is the freedom of providence. That is the story I choose to live.
Jesus said, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36). That means we are not the sum of our pain, our trauma, or our past. There is no such thing as a “damaged person” in the kingdom of God. We are intricately, purposefully, and thoughtfully designed-not only in body, but in upbringing. The families we were born into, the circumstances we endured, the wounds we carry-all were known and permitted by a sovereign, loving God who works all things for our good.s to deal with the longer we live.
It is a gift beyond measure to live regret-free and trauma-free.
We have more and more painful thing I would love to have the testimony of Joni in them as I see them not as trauma, but treasures. Those points in life that caused me grief and pain have shaped me into the person I am and have drawn my heart to beat in closer rhythm to my Savior. I would never want them to be taken away. I would not want to go back and change anything. I see these points in life as gifts and blessings, as areas where there is promise of seeing God’s glory through them.
Only we as believers have the option to live truly regret-free and trauma-free. And only those of us who learn to fully trust God and His sovereign hand in our lives can actually step away from the world’s narrative-that bad things will define us, limit us, or damage us forever. The gospel offers something radically different: redemption, purpose, and peace. In Christ, nothing is wasted. Every wound, every weakness, and every failure-our own or others’-can be used by God to form us into the image of His Son. That is our hope. That is our freedom.
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” – Romans 8:28