A few years ago, I sat with a family as everything in their world seemed to unravel.
They had prayed. Trusted God. Tried to do things the right way. And yet here they were, facing loss, confusion, and a kind of pain that doesn’t make sense when you believe our Lord is good.
And then there’s that question that comes across as a whispered prayer: “How can this be part of God’s plan?”
That question isn’t new. And we’re face-to-face with this question in Genesis 35:16-20.
16 Then they moved on from Bethel. While they were still some distance from Ephrath, Rachel began to give birth and had great difficulty. 17 And as she was having great difficulty in childbirth, the midwife said to her, “Don’t despair, for you have another son.” 18 As she breathed her last—for she was dying—she named her son Ben-Oni. But his father named him Benjamin.
Genesis 35:16-20, New International Version
19 So Rachel died and was buried on the way to Ephrath (that is, Bethlehem). 20 Over her tomb Jacob set up a pillar, and to this day that pillar marks Rachel’s tomb.
Jacob is finally walking in obedience. He returned to Bethel. He put away idols. God has reaffirmed His covenant promises of land, descendants, and blessing. Everything is moving in the right direction.
And then, suddenly, everything breaks.
Rachel goes into labor, and it’s hard labor. The text doesn’t soften it. It’s desperate. It’s painful. And as she’s dying, she names her son Ben-Oni, which means “son of my sorrow.”
This is the moment the promise is supposed to move forward, and it feels like it’s falling apart.
Jacob steps in and renames the boy Benjamin: “son of my right hand.” From the son of sorrow to strength, honor, and favor.
But…Rachel still dies.
Jacob sets up a pillar over her grave. The journey continues. But now it carries grief.
There’s a painful reality here. Sometimes the fulfillment of our Lord’s promises comes wrapped in pain. We tend to assume that obedience leads to ease. We want to believe that if we’re walking with Jesus, things should start smoothing out.
But Genesis 35 reminds us that’s not always how it works.
Jacob is exactly where God wants him to be, and he still buries the love of his life.
So, what do we do with that?
First, don’t confuse God’s presence with the absence of pain. Pain is not proof that God is absent. Sometimes it’s the very place where His purposes are unfolding in ways we can’t yet see.
Second, be honest about your sorrow, but don’t let it name your future. Rachel names her son out of her pain: Ben-Oni. And that makes sense. Pain speaks loudly.
But Jacob refuses to let sorrow have the final word. He renames him Benjamin. This isn’t denial; it’s defiance. Genesis 35 gently pushes back on us: yes, your pain is real, but it doesn’t get to name your destiny.
Lastly, trust that the Lord is still moving the story forward, even when it hurts. Benjamin becomes part of the twelve tribes of Israel. He’s not a footnote—he’s essential to the promise. But his story begins in loss. You don’t know where your story is going next. You don’t know the rest of the story (yet). And your story is still moving forward.
Jacob leaves that place with a grave behind him and a promise still in front of him. And if you’re honest, that’s where some of you are right now.
You’re carrying something heavy. Something you didn’t expect. Something that doesn’t seem to fit with what you thought God was doing.
Genesis 35 doesn’t give easy answers. But it does give this reassurance: the Lord’s promises don’t fall apart just because life does.
He is still at work, even where you are.
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