My Theology of Suffering

My theology of suffering has evolved over the years, in a way almost coming full circle. When I was younger, I didn’t question; I took an animalistic view that suffering is simply a part of life, happening randomly, with compassion being the only appropriate response. Then I became deeply involved in prayer, especially in intercessory prayer, joining the prayer circles at the churches that I belonged to. Through this process, I became amazed by the miracles that God often works through prayer, and gradually became convinced that prayer could cure all ills, if only we prayed hard enough, or if only the recipient of the prayers was receptive enough. Thus, although I still felt the initial suffering was randomly placed, I believed that the response to the suffering was under human control through openness to prayer.
I learned the naiveté of that belief when a friend's young son died of brain cancer last year. Man, was that boy prayed for. No one could have received more heartfelt prayers than he. And he was most receptive to prayer, being a very loving and spiritual child. Yet he died anyway. I was devastated, not only but the loss, but also by the shattering of my beliefs. How could God have let me down so? How could God have allowed this child to die? Why hadn't God worked one of his miracles for Matthew?
In the midst of my raging, I went to a one-day spiritual retreat, where I had the brief enlightenment that God does not view death the same way we do. God after all is eternal, and looks at the human condition from that point of view. Although she feels our suffering, she also knows about our afterlife, and this vision, a curtain briefly lifted for me, so that I could almost grasp the eternal message, allowed me to see that there is so much more to the picture than I could ever grasp.
So now, although I have not abandoned my habit of prayer, I have come to understand that suffering happens randomly, and healing cannot be guaranteed, and our only viable response is compassion.