Let's Normalize Suffering (Yes, Really)

Because real health requires more than a diet plan

From where I stand, we’re in a bit of a pickle as the people of God—especially when it comes to our health.

And let’s be honest: if we don’t have our health, we don’t have much.
So before we go any further, let’s level-set. Here’s the definition of health:

Health (Webster’s Dictionary):

1. The condition of being sound in body, mind, or spirit.

2. Freedom from physical disease or pain.

According to that definition, I’m convinced—without a doubt—that God is for our health.

Health is biblical.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 2 Timothy 1:7

“He took our illnesses and bore our disease” Matthew 8:17

Now, I get it. You might cringe when health gets brought up in a church setting. That’s probably because it’s been twisted by the prosperity gospel. I felt that way, too. Until I found myself in deep need. I needed Jesus to help me think better about my life. That’s health.

When Jesus walked the earth, He healed bodies and restored minds—not so we’d pursue healing, but so we’d recognize the Healer. The Kingdom of God was near. Salvation was the point and healing was the sign. The sign to go further than just better body health. Go all the way to giving God your heart too!

The Kingdom still wants to come close to you—closer than ever—so your life can truly change.

But here’s where we get tangled up:
If your “pursuit of health” is really just a cover for the pressure to be thinner, younger, hotter, aka “better,” you’re not alone. That’s the deep-digging, Spirit-led work we must do. That’s where real healing begins.

So back to the pickle.
We want God to change our lives—to fix our thinking, heal our emotions, and help us make better choices—but we don’t want to suffer.

And on this American Independence Day, let’s tell the truth:
Because of our comforts and rights, we don’t really know what it means to suffer—not like our brothers and sisters in war zones or under oppressive regimes. That’s not shame, that’s a reality check.

We are soft.
We’ve been seduced by comfort.
We’ve traded in the strength suffering brings for the convenience of distraction and self-medication.

But friend, if you want to change your life and become a vessel of change for others—
You’re going to have to welcome suffering.

“For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” Hebrews 2:14

Jesus took on a body to help us in ours. He understands every form of suffering—from saying no to dessert to being wrongfully imprisoned. He gets it. And He wants to help you live like Him.

I’ll be honest: I’ve been walking through some hard things lately. I’ve argued with God. Pleaded with Him to change my circumstances. But here’s what I’ve realized—again:

God’s not interested in changing my circumstances more than He is in changing me.

So instead of managing my pain, I’m learning to normalize it. To stop resisting it. To meet Jesus in it.

Here are three small ways I’m scheduling suffering into my life right now:

1. Fasting

Ugh. I hate fasting.Which probably means I need it.I’m a mover, and I like to feel strong. But when I fast, I feel weak—and I hate that. Which again… means I probably need it.

Fasting invites us into chosen weakness. It trains us to say no to what we want so we can receive more of what we need.

Not all fasting has to be from food—but if food has become your go-to comfort, it might be the very place God wants to meet you. (Also, let’s not let biohacking and weight-loss trends rob fasting of its purpose: it’s a spiritual discipline, not a wellness tip.)

2. More Quiet Space

For me, this means less input.
My phone is always nearby—and with it, I’m constantly looping through email, texts, Slack, messages, books, YouTube sermons, or podcasts. It’s a non-stop info buffet in my mind.

And my mind? Cluttered.
Maybe yours is too.

Quiet space invites holy discomfort. And it’s in that discomfort that I become more available to God.

3. Prayer

Now, prayer isn’t suffering, but it is a discipline—and all disciplines carry some resistance.

These days, I’m using the urge to reach for my phone as a cue to reach for God instead. Nothing fancy. Just turning my face to Him.

“God, what’s on Your heart?”
“Here’s what’s on mine.”

I say what I’m thinking, then pray what He’s saying.

Prayer is conversation with God. And it’s changing me.

(Speaking of suffering and changing our minds. This week’s walk & talk is 🔥. Lace up your shoes and get well with me. Be sure to leave a comment if you listen and tell me what got you.)

If you’re following me here, it’s probably because you want help with your body story. So maybe this post feels like a detour:

“Just tell me what to eat and how to move, Alisa!”

But trust me, there is great substance here.

Jesus doesn’t want to be your personal trainer if He’s not your personal Savior. And our saving didn’t come without a cost. It came through suffering.

First, Jesus saves us. Then He changes us. And all change requires suffering.

So let’s bring it back.
Let’s schedule suffering. Let’s normalize it.
Let’s let it soften us, shape us, and lead us deeper into His likeness.

Because you were made to bear His image. And there’s no shortcut to that kind of transformation.

If you love God and feel the tug to teach and lead others in freedom-based faith, fitness and health as a fitness instructor or health coach, be sure to join me in my free masterclass next week titled Called to Coach (link). Come live or watch the replay! I’m going to give you the best that I got!

Happy Fourth! 🎆 Stay FREE!

Alisa