When Paul, Jesus' disciple, wasn't cured of his "thorn in the flesh" despite his pleas, God told him:

"My grace is enough for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Corinthians 12)

Did this mean his life was over? Quite the opposite. His purpose continued despite whatever this "thorn" was—illness, pain, difficult people—we don't know. But we can all relate if we're honest. We all suffer.

How we respond to suffering is a choice. Consider Maximilian Kolbe and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, whose purpose became most clear in Nazi concentration camps. Their smallest gestures inspired others around them.

Frederick Buechner experienced profound suffering too—losing his father to suicide as a young boy—yet became one of our most beloved writers and theologians. Like Paul, Kolbe, and Bonhoeffer, he chose to transform his pain into purpose.

The Creator knows our hearts completely. He sees, hears, and understands everything about us. We can hide nothing from him, even if we don't believe in him. He knows our motives, forgets nothing, and recognizes our truth.

The mystery of the radically honest and open heart is that it changes how we view suffering and our role in healing. Suffering can open our hearts, but not necessarily. It can make us bitter and veangeful. It may make us vow to right the wrongs done to us.

We can choose not to try to take over or even make over our future, however. Is that giving up? No, the key is to asking, "Where is God in my choice?"

Maybe God's plan isn't that you suffer, but is to be found in how you respond to suffering. We have to invite God into our open hearts, give him permission to 'take control.' When we surrender to following his roadmap, his goodness is made perfect in our pain.

We may find our purpose in flipping the switch in our identity, as Paul and so many others throughout history have done. We may come to understand that God wants to work something in us. We may grasp that the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). 

In the beautiful words of the Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi,

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Becoming a participant in the God's plan is what being a steward of pain is. Buechner's talk on the stewardship of pain might resonate with you as it did with me. I recommend any of his books, some of which appear in my reading lists.

To hear more about the "stewardship of pain," you may want to listen to Buechner's talk here:  
https://youtu.be/73hdH1_z2ps?si=JisQ4xQOsoqw80wM