My mother-in-law emailed a verse about suffering a few months back that she herself had found helpful. It made me cry!
Chance has not brought this ill to me;
It’s God’s own hand, so let it be,
For He sees what I cannot see.
There is a purpose for each pain,
And He one day will make it plain.
That earthly loss is heavenly gain.
Like as a piece of tapestry,
Viewed from the back appears to be,
Only threads tangled hopelessly;
But in the front a picture fair,
Rewards the worker for his care,
Proving his skill and patience rare.
You are the Workman, I the frame.
Lord, for the glory of Your Name,
Perfect Your image on the same.