Many of us have heard stories of others’ sufferings that cause us to think something like, “Oh my goodness; I have no problems.” Or, “Wow, compared to that person’s suffering, I have no right to complain.” Leaving a right to complain aside: these are often unhelpful and possibly even unfaithful responses to the sufferings we witness and experience.

In a famous passage about anxiety, Christ tells His followers not to be anxious but instead to observe the grass, birds, and flowers, and to consider God’s providential care for those things. These observations lead to this conclusion: God will even more so care for His image bearers. At the end of Matthew 6:25-34, Christ says, “Therefore, do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (emphasis mine). 

That last sentence is an absolute statement. It applies to all people, at all times, in all places. You can think of it, therefore, as a definition. What is a bachelor? An unmarried man. What is the day’s own trouble? Sufficient. “The day’s own trouble” may have as many definitions as the word “tree” or “house,” but on the authority of the Lord, one of them is “sufficient.”

Good can come from considering our daily troubles as sufficient. Two key results often emerge from such right thinking. We gain peaceful humility, and we are liberated from whatever weight oppresses us, thereby encouraged to turn to Christ who cares for us. If we only jettison our trouble, eager to count it less than someone else’s trouble, we may too-hastily “solve” the issue, not allowing for good work to be done in us—remember, James 1:2-4, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”

Considering your troubles as sufficient requires answering the question, “sufficient for what?” There are several correct answers, but one is most helpful at the outset. All of our troubles are sufficient to cause difficulty (or to be troubling). That may seem obvious, but how many times have you attempted to disregard or dismiss the difficulty by saying something like, “but who am I to be troubled when there are starving children in the world;” “I feel bad for being troubled so because others have it worse than me;” or, “at least I’m not currently under machine gun fire.”

Years ago, I was in Nicaragua feeding and ministering to extremely poor children. One tiny Nicaraguan girl was sleeping in the top bunk at our camp and fell out, breaking her arm. The mission team leader, Mike, heard her cries and ran to help. I came into the room soon after him. The girl was understandably crying in pain. Mike was comforting her and speaking to her (in Spanish) words of soothing, apparently. As she calmed I asked Mike what he said, he turned to me and dryly replied, “I told her it really sucks that she’s in so much pain, but to look at the bright side, we could all be under machine gun fire right now.” I had to leave the room for laughing uncontrollably. That is not what Mike said to that little girl, but I’ve never forgotten a lesson from his facetious reply to me. Things can always be worse; that doesn’t mean your current trouble isn’t difficult, painful, or burdensome. 

To receive and accept the troubling of our troubles (great or small), is to be humbled. When troubled by anything, we can respond by realizing again that we are not God. We do not, and for now cannot exist above the storms or pettifogging circumstances of life but must suffer in them; we’re only human. Humans get broken bones; we get annoyed; we grieve deeply; we get splinters; we lose limbs; we hunger, thirst, and bleed; we mourn the death of loved ones. Every kind and degree of trouble reveals that we are derivative and not the sovereign author of history. Every one of your troubles is sufficient to further humble you—consider them so capable.

Additionally, when we consider our troubles as sufficient, we can be sober-minded and acknowledge that we do have it better than many (as is often the case). But we can do so in a way that does not dismiss our troubles and feelings. We are freed to respond in gratitude to our merciful God, acknowledging our less-troubling trouble can accomplish some good work. Thinking in this way liberates us from having a horrible day topped with the cherry of self-flagellation: “I’m sad and angry at my troubles and I’m such a horrible person for even being upset. I could be under machine gun fire right now, and I’m not!” It may be counter-intuitive to think of being liberated to feel troubled, but there is a way we must. 

If God has blessed and we haven’t suffered tremendously, praise God. But if we’ve never suffered tremendously and one day find ourselves on the side of the road changing a flat tire in 102* heat to only then get back in the vehicle for a moment before being rear-ended, we must know it’s okay to feel troubled. Yes, there is far worse going on in the world, but your day’s trouble is sufficient. In fact, I’ll maintain that if we refuse to feel troubled, instead tactically bringing to mind all of the starving children of the world or the machine-gun-saturated streets of Nicaragua, we will miss something we need to experience in and through our own troubles: things like sufficient grace; clarity; spiritual growth.

As we suffer great difficulties or deal with the little annoyances of life, may we count our troubles sufficient and go to Jesus who understands. We will not do so if we only minimize whatever troubles we experience thereby attempting on our own to cure the day and ourselves.