For me, comfort has often come in the middle of the hard places, when life has knocked me sideways and I have not known how to get my feet under me again. There have been times of disappointment, loss, and fear that felt more like deep potholes than just bumps in the road – seasons when I felt far weaker than I wanted anyone to know. Yet, in those very places, I began to understand what Paul meant when he called God “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Corinthians 1:3).
Often, we think comfort means that God will quickly remove the pain or explain why it has happened. Sometimes He does bring change, and sometimes He gives answers, but more often He gives us Himself. This is beautifully illustrated in the words of the psalmist: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me. Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). We discover that the comfort is not always in escaping the valley, but in realising we are not walking through it alone. His rod and His staff steady us. His presence calms fears that nothing else can reach.
There are times when we look for comfort and do not find it in the places we expect. Job’s words ring true: “Miserable comforters are you all! Shall words of wind have an end?” (Job 16;2,3). We have all heard well-meaning words that land heavily because they were too quick, too polished, or too sure. Pain does not need to be hurried along with easy explanations. Sometimes the greatest comfort has come through someone who sat beside us, prayed simply, listened carefully, and did not try to fix everything in one conversation.
Over time we begin to see that the comfort God gives us is not meant to end with us. Paul says that God comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort others in theirs (2 Corinthians 1:4). Speaking personally, that little phrase, “so that,” has become very important to me. It tells me that comfort is not only a gift to receive; it is a grace to recycle. What God poured into my life during hidden, tearful, uncertain days was never meant to remain unused. It was meant to overflow.
Now, when I meet another woman who is facing something familiar to my own story, I do not feel the need to arrive as an expert. I come as someone who has been helped. I can say, “I know a little of what that kind of fear feels like,” or “I remember how lonely that road can be.” I can share the comfort that was shared with me – not as a lecture, but as bread passed from one hungry hand to another. The comfort is still God’s, but He allows me to carry a portion of it to someone else.
That has changed the way I view my scars. I would not have chosen many of the hard bumps I have known, and I do not pretend they were easy. But I can see that God has not wasted them. He has softened places in me that might otherwise have remained hard. He has taught me tenderness, patience, and the ministry of presence. He has shown me that people who are mourning are not problems to solve; they are people to love. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). I have found that promise to be both deeply personal and wonderfully shareable.
I am also comforted by knowing that Jesus Himself understands weakness. Hebrews chapter 4 verses 15 and 16 tell me that I have a High Priest who is able to sympathise with my weaknesses. Therefore, I can come boldly to the throne of grace, not because I am strong, but because He is merciful. In my time of need, I have found mercy there. I have found grace there. And when another woman finds herself in a time of need, I want to help her find her way to the throne of grace too.
So, I am learning to live as a woman who receives comfort and passes it on. The Holy Spirit, the Comforter (John 15:26 KJV), has not left me comfortless, and I do not want to leave others comfortless either. I may not have the perfect words, and I may not understand every detail of another person’s pain, but I can be present. I can listen. I can pray. I can speak gently of the God who met me in my affliction. In that way, the comfort I have received is recycled into hope for someone else, bringing honour and glory once again to the God of all comfort.
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ. Now if we are afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effective for enduring the same sufferings which we also suffer. Or if we are comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation. And our hope for you is steadfast, because we know that as you are partakers of the sufferings, so also you will partake of the consolation” (2 Corinthians 1:3-7).
