Greetings in the name of the Father, the son, and the Holy Spirit.
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” – Isaiah 55:8–9
Greetings, friends! It is a profound joy to welcome you into this space today. Whether you are walking through these doors with a heart full of certainty, or carrying a heavy backpack of questions, doubts, and quiet hesitations, please know this: you belong here. This is a space where we don’t have to wear masks, and we don’t have to pretend we have our lives completely figured out.
Two weeks ago, we stood together in the quiet sanctuary of each other’s company and listened to the heartbreaking echo of a question that has haunted humanity since the very beginning. We remembered an older gentleman—a grandfather at a breakfast table—who shared the agonizing loss of his young grandchild to a brain tumor, despite an ocean of desperate prayers. His raw, tear-stained voice asked the question we whisper in our darkest hours: “Why do bad things happen to good people?”
On that day, we looked into the Gospel of John and found Jesus standing at the tomb of His dear friend Lazarus. Before Jesus performed a miracle, before He spoke words of power, the Bible tells us a beautiful, comforting truth in just two words: “Jesus wept.” (John 11:35) He didn’t offer a cold, academic lecture to the grieving sisters. He entered into their pain. He validated that their sorrow was real, heavy, and devastating.
But as we leave that breakfast table and walk out into the messy reality of our daily lives, a deeper, secondary question begins to form in our minds. It’s a question that digs beneath the surface of our experiences: What actually makes something “good” or “bad” in the first place?
How do we, with our limited human sight, decide what constitutes a blessing or a tragedy? We look at a single moment—a sudden illness, a broken relationship, a financial collapse, or even a sudden stroke of financial prosperity—and we instantly slap a label on it. We call it an absolute disaster or an absolute triumph.
Today, we are going to pull back the lens. We are going to look past the immediate snapshot of our current circumstances and explore how human wisdom, our deepest loves, and ultimately the truth of the Bible help us redefine what it means to experience “good things” and “bad things.” If you have ever felt like your life is an unpredictable roller coaster where you can’t tell if the next turn is leading to a rescue or a wreck, this morning is for you. Let’s look together at the story God is writing—a story that stretches far beyond the horizon of our immediate sight.
I. The Tangles of Our Definition
To understand why life feels so chaotic, we first have to look at how we naturally define our worlds. If you were to sit down with a blank piece of paper and write out what a “good thing” looks like for a child, what would you write?
Naturally, you would write down things like: growing up healthy, becoming stronger every day, doing well in school, gaining wisdom, being surrounded by friends, and enjoying a life free from unnecessary pain or hardship. We define “good” through the lens of self-attached existence—comfort, preservation, expansion, and happiness. Conversely, we define a “bad thing” as anything that disrupts that comfort: sickness, failure, disappointment, or loss.
But notice how quickly our neat definitions begin to tangle when real love enters the equation.
Think about the relationship between a parent and a child. There are countless moments where something is intensely uncomfortable, exhausting, and fundamentally “bad” by the definition of self-preservation for the parent, yet it is a beautiful, “good” thing for the child.
- A mother wakes up every two hours in the pitch-black quiet of the night, utterly exhausted, her body aching for sleep, to nurse a crying newborn.
- A father works a grueling second job, sacrificing his hobbies, his rest, and his personal comfort, to pay for his child’s education or medical care.
By the strict definition of personal comfort, losing sleep and working oneself to exhaustion are “bad” things. They cause physical strain and emotional distress. Yet, we look at those parents and we don’t see a tragedy; we see the breathtaking beauty of sacrificial love. The parents actually feel good about taking on the hardship because they are looking past their own immediate comfort toward the ultimate well-being of their children. Eventually, what a parent truly wants is not just for their child to remain in a bubble of easy comfort, but for that child to know deeply, experience fully, and eventually practice that same kind of deep, meaningful love.
This reveals a profound truth about our human condition: True goodness is almost never found in comfortable isolation. It is forged through relationship, sacrifice, and stepping through difficulties.
Yet, when it comes to our relationship with God, we often revert right back to our shallowest definitions. When a grandchild is miraculously cured of a disease, we celebrate and say, “God is so good! What a wonderful blessing!” And it is a beautiful thing. We imagine that a child spared from illness will grow up to become a wonderful person who helps many, restores communities, and does incredible things in the name of Christ.
But if we are honest with history and human nature, we know that life is rarely a straight line. A child who receives a miracle can grow up to live a life of profound impact—but it can also happen the other way. A person who experiences nothing but health, wealth, and unbroken prosperity can easily become self-absorbed, arrogant, and emotionally detached from the suffering of others. Sometimes, the very things we label as an unqualified “good” can lead our souls into a deep, dangerous winter of self-sufficiency where we feel no need for God or community.
Our sight is simply too limited. We look at a single frame of a movie and declare the entire film a failure, entirely unaware that the scene we are crying over is the exact turning point necessary for the beautiful resolution at the end.
II. The Wisdom of the Border and the Blueprint of Heaven
This human limitation is not a new discovery. For thousands of years, even outside the pages of Scripture, the wisest minds have realized that human beings are notoriously poor judges of what is ultimately good or bad for them.
There is an ancient story from eastern culture that captures this truth perfectly. It is centered around a philosophical story about “the horse of the old man living at the border.” It is a piece of timeless human wisdom that teaches us how fortune and misfortune are constantly weaving into one another, making life impossible to judge by a single event.
The story tells of an old man who lived on the northern border of his country, and he owned a magnificent horse. One afternoon, without warning, the horse broke through the fence and ran away across the border into enemy territory. When his neighbors heard what happened, they gathered around his home, shaking their heads in sympathy. “What terrible bad luck,” they said.
The old man looked at them calmly and replied, “Who knows? This might turn into a blessing.”
A few months went by, and suddenly, the old man’s horse returned. But it wasn’t alone. Trailing behind it was a magnificent, wild, priceless stallion from the foreign lands. The neighbors were ecstatic. They rushed back to the old man’s house to congratulate him. “You were right! What an incredible stroke of good fortune! Now you are a wealthy man!”
The old man looked at the beautiful new horse, turned to his neighbors, and said, “Who knows? This might turn into a misfortune.”
A few days later, the old man’s only son decided to tame this wild stallion. As he was riding it, the horse bucked violently, throwing the young man to the hard ground. The son’s leg was shattered in multiple places, leaving him with a permanent limp. The neighbors returned, weeping and offering their deepest condolences. “This horse is a curse,” they lamented. “Your only son is now crippled. What a horrible, bad thing.”
Once again, the old man remained entirely serene. “Who knows?” he whispered. “This might turn into a blessing.”
A year later, a brutal war broke out along the border. The enemy launched a massive invasion, and the government immediately drafted every single able-bodied young man in the village into the military. It was a catastrophic conflict; nearly all of the young men who were sent to the front lines perished in battle. But because the old man’s son had a broken, crippled leg, he was exempted from military service. His life was saved because of the very injury that had broken his father’s heart a year prior.
This ancient story reminds us of a fundamental lesson: all human affairs are like the horse of the border old man. It teaches us not to be easily overjoyed by temporary, superficial success, and not to be deeply disheartened or destroyed by sudden, agonizing hardship, because life is constantly shifting beneath our feet.
Now, if secular human wisdom can recognize that we shouldn’t place a definitive value judgment on an event based merely on what we see, think, and feel right now, how much deeper is the truth found in the Word of God?
Human wisdom tells us to be detached and stoic, but the Bible takes this concept and grounds it in a loving, purposeful Creator. The Bible doesn’t just say, “Well, things change, so don’t get too upset.” It tells us that there is an ultimate Designer who is actively weaving the threads of history together.
Look at what the Apostle Paul writes in his letter to the Romans:
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
Notice the precision of this biblical truth. It does not say that all things are good. The Bible never asks you to look at a brain tumor, a car accident, a painful divorce, or a sudden death and say, “This is good.” Pain is pain. Loss is loss.
Instead, the Bible tells us that God works through all things—He takes the broken pieces, the mistakes, the tragedies, and the tears—and He coordinates them, puts them together, and shapes them toward an ultimate, eternal good. Human wisdom tells us that life is an unpredictable wheel of fortune; the Bible tells us that life is a grand canvas where even the darkest strokes of paint are being used by a Master Artist to create a masterpiece of redemption.
III. The Darkest Friday and the Brightest Sunday
To truly understand how God turns the ultimate “bad thing” into the ultimate “good thing,” we have to look at the heart of the Gospel. We have to look at an event in history where all human definitions of good and bad completely collapsed.
Imagine standing in Jerusalem roughly two thousand years ago on a Friday afternoon. If you were to ask any follower of Jesus on that day, “Is what is happening right now a good thing or a bad thing?” they would have answered with absolute, gut-wrenching horror. It was, by every human metric, the absolute worst thing that could ever happen.
Look at the sequence of events from that dark week:
- Jesus, the teacher who brought sight to the blind, healed the lepers, and spoke words of unconditional love, was betrayed by one of His closest friends for a handful of silver.
- In the garden of Gethsemane, as Jesus was captured by armed guards, His disciples—the men who had promised to die with Him—were consumed by terror and scattered into the night, abandoning Him.
- Peter, the rock of the disciples, stood by a courtyard fire and, out of paralyzing fear, denied even knowing Jesus three distinct times, breaking down in bitter tears of shame.
- Jesus was subjected to a mock trial, falsely accused, spit upon, brutally tortured, mocked with a crown of thorns, and forced to carry a heavy wooden beam through the streets while the crowds jeered.
Finally, He was nailed to a rugged cross on a hill called Calvary. He hung there, bleeding, gasping for air, dying a criminal’s death. The people standing below shouted up at Him, demanding proof: “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself! Come down from the cross and we will believe you!” (Luke 23:37)
They wanted a demonstration of power. They wanted Jesus to perform a miracle, break the nails, strike down the Roman soldiers, and prove His divinity by escaping pain. But Jesus did not come down. He stayed on that cross. He bowed His head, breathed His last, and died.
If you stopped the story right there on Friday night, it was a total tragedy. The dream was dead. The savior was a corpse in a borrowed tomb. It was the ultimate “bad thing,” accompanied by the total failure of His followers. How many people, from that day until now, have suffered, faced persecution, and even laid down their lives because of their allegiance to this crucified carpenter?
But the Bible tells us that Friday was not the final word.
Three days later, on Sunday morning, the ground shook, the stone was rolled away, and Jesus Christ stepped out of the grave, alive forevermore!
Now, looking back through the lens of the resurrection, what do we call that terrible, agonizing Friday? We call it Good Friday.
Think about how scandalous that is. The day the only truly innocent, blameless, and perfect person to ever live was brutally executed by a broken world is called Good Friday. Why? Because on that cross, God took the worst imaginable human evil and used it to accomplish the greatest imaginable cosmic good.
Jesus stayed on that cross not because He lacked the power to come down, but because He was driven by an unyielding love for you and for me. On that dark hill, He was taking the punishment for our brokenness, our failures, and our sins upon Himself. He endured the ultimate “bad thing” so that we could receive the ultimate “good thing“—forgiveness, unconditional acceptance, a restored relationship with our Creator, and a hope that death itself cannot touch.
The Cross is the definitive proof that God can take an event intended for evil, the bad, and transform it into the source of life, the good. If God can take the execution of His own Son and turn it into the salvation of the world, then there is absolutely nothing in your life—no loss, no failure, no diagnosis, and no heartbreak—that He cannot ultimately redeem.
Summary: Walking Forward in Trust and Grace
As we pull these deep truths into our hearts today, let’s re-examine our lives with a sense of humility, peace, and renewed hope.
What have we learned as we look beyond the horizon today?
- Our Perspective is Limited: We naturally define good and bad based on immediate personal comfort, but true love and deep spiritual growth often require us to step through difficult valleys. We cannot judge the entire tapestry of our lives by a single, painful thread.
- Human Wisdom Points to the Pattern, the Bible Points to the Person: While human wisdom warns us not to judge a life by a single event because fortunes change, the Bible anchors us in the truth that a loving Father is actively working through all things for our ultimate good.
- The Cross is Our Assurance: The resurrection of Jesus proves that tragedy is never the final chapter. God specializes in turning our darkest Fridays into our brightest Sundays.
Yes, losing a grandchild after a long, agonizing prayer is a genuinely tragic, heartbreaking thing. When we face those moments of profound sorrow, we do not need to play psychological games or pretend it doesn’t hurt. Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus because human sorrow is real. He sympathizes with our pain because He felt it Himself on the road to Calvary.
But hear this clearly: the bad thing is never the final word.
When we ask, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” we are looking for a logical formula. But God doesn’t give us a formula; He gives us Himself. He promises that in the midst of the sorrow, in the midst of the confusion, He is right there with us. He is our peace, our comfort, our mercy, and our grace.
When you trust Him through the tears, you will find peace. You have just taken a profound step forward into a depth of faith, resilience, and love that prosperity could never teach you. That is the ultimate victory over the “bad things” of this world. You don’t have to understand the whole map today. You just have to trust the Guide who proved His love for you on the cross.
Let us bow our heads and pray together.
Heavenly Father, we come before You today completely humbled by the reality of how small our vision truly is. Lord, so often we look at our lives through the tiny window of our immediate comfort, and we get easily discouraged when things don’t go according to our plans. We confess that we often question Your goodness when the storm hits or when our desperate prayers aren’t answered the way we hoped.
We thank You for the deep comfort of knowing that You do not mock our tears. Thank You that Jesus wept, showing us that our earthly sorrows matter deeply to Your heart. But we also thank You that You are infinitely greater than our circumstances. Thank You for the cross—for taking the darkest day in history and turning it into our eternal rescue.
We pray today for anyone here who feels like they are living in a “bad thing” right now—someone dealing with a broken heart, a difficult diagnosis, a failed dream, or an uncertain future. Give them the grace to lift their eyes past the horizon. Pour out Your supernatural peace, comfort, and mercy into their souls. Help us to stop demanding explanations and simply begin trusting Your character.
Anchor our hearts in the absolute assurance that because Jesus lives, our stories do not end in defeat, but in ultimate victory and boundless grace.
We pray in the Name of Jesus, Amen.
“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” – 2 Corinthians 4:17–18