Groaning for Glory

Reflections on Romans 8:18–27

Last September, the N3 highway in the Midlands was completely blocked by snow. For almost two days, vehicles couldn’t move, and hundreds of people were stuck in the cold. One of them was my older cousin.

She had been travelling from Pretoria to KZN when the snowstorm hit. Suddenly, she found herself trapped overnight in a freezing taxi, without food or water, her feet going numb from the cold. She and the other passengers prayed through the long night, hoping that help would come.

The next morning, road workers finally began clearing the snow, and she made it home safely. When I spoke to her later that day, she said through tears, “Angikholwa ukuthi cishe ngafa—I genuinely thought I was going to die. I just kept hoping someone would come and take us out of that misery. I’m so glad to be home and warm again.”

That story captures something we all feel in moments of hardship: a deep longing for relief, for rescue, for home.

Romans 8:18–27 shows us that the Christian life is marked by that same longing. Paul writes about groaning — not only our own, but creation’s and even the Spirit’s. Together, they point us toward the day when suffering will give way to glory.

When Creation Groans

Paul begins with these words:

“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.” (Romans 8:18)

When Paul wrote this, Christians in Rome were living under persecution. Their faith made them outsiders in a culture that demanded loyalty to the Emperor. Many lost homes, livelihoods, and even their lives. Yet Paul reminded them that their present suffering could not compare to the glory awaiting them.

He didn’t deny the pain; he simply put it in perspective. The ache of now points us toward the joy that’s coming.

When my cousin was freezing in that taxi, she didn’t know when or if help would come. But we, as believers, can be certain that it will. The One who suffered and was glorified — Jesus Christ — has secured a future where warmth, peace, and home are guaranteed.

Our suffering is not wasted. Romans 5 tells us that suffering produces perseverance, which forms character, which builds hope. And this hope, Paul says, “does not put us to shame.”

Sometimes, it feels like trusting God does put us to shame. Others seem to move ahead in life while you stay stuck, praying and waiting. Yet Paul reminds us that even creation itself is groaning, longing to be restored. The brokenness of the world is not a sign of God’s absence but of His unfinished work.

“The creation itself will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” (Romans 8:21)

One day, God will make everything new. Every tear will be wiped away. Every fracture in creation will be healed.

Hope That Waits

Paul continues:

“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.” (Romans 8:22)

Childbirth pain doesn’t last forever; it leads to joy. That’s what Paul means when he says we “groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship.” (v.23)

We already belong to God, but we are not yet home. Like a child waiting to be brought into their new family, we wait for the full experience of being with our Father.

This is why Christian hope is so powerful: it looks beyond what is seen.

“Who hopes for what they already have?” Paul asks. (v.24)

If we already had all God promised, there’d be no reason to hope. But we wait patiently because we know what’s coming — the redemption of our bodies, the restoration of all things, and the presence of God forever.

The wait is hard, but it is not meaningless. Hope teaches us to keep our eyes on the promise, not the pain.

When Words Run Out

Paul also writes:

“The Spirit helps us in our weakness... the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)

Sometimes, suffering leaves us speechless. We don’t know how to pray or what to say. But the Spirit knows. He carries our wordless cries to the Father and intercedes perfectly on our behalf.

That means even in our most silent moments, we are not unheard.
Even when we don’t know what God’s will is, the Spirit prays in perfect alignment with it.

Our weakness does not push God away; it draws Him nearer. The Spirit meets us in the groaning and reminds us that the story isn’t over.

Glory Is Coming

All of creation aches for the day when Jesus returns — when corruption ends and glory begins. Until then, we wait. We groan. We trust.

To those who don’t yet believe, this longing you feel — that sense that something is wrong with the world — points you to the truth. Even the best moments here are fleeting. But there is a greater home waiting for those who belong to Christ.

And to those who believe: hold on. Relief is coming. The day will arrive when your pain will make sense in light of His glory.

One day, like my cousin finally home and warm again, we’ll look back at the cold and say, “It was horrible, but I’m finally home.”

Until that day, rest in this promise:

“Nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:39)

And remember the words of the old hymn:

For my life He bled and died,
Christ will hold me fast.
Justice has been satisfied,
He will hold me fast.
Raised with Him to endless life,
He will hold me fast.
Till our faith is turned to sight,
When He comes at last.

He will hold you fast.