All Things for Good? 6 Things Romans 8:28 Doesn’t Mean

Romans 8:28 is perhaps the most powerful promise in all of Scripture: “And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”¹

But it’s also perhaps the verse most easily misapplied to hurting people. Despite good-intentions, it has been used to dismiss pain, rush the broken toward a “silver lining,” or suggest that if you’re still hurting, you must not be trusting God enough.² Depending on how we understand this verse, it can feel like either a lifeline or a slap in the face. The difference isn’t abstract or merely intellectual. It’s the difference between hope that sustains and a theology that crushes.

We need to grasp the truth of Romans 8:28 because we live in a cursed world marked by suffering. It is not a matter of if we will experience suffering—only when. And it’s important that we have our theology in place before we need it. You don’t want to wait to patch up your boat until you’re in the middle of a storm. So too, we need our theological convictions in place before the storms of life hit, especially as suffering often tempts us to doubt and despair.

But we also need to rightly understand this verse in order to rightly apply it to others. Bad theology produces bad counsel. In the hands of a well-intentioned but shallow, unskilled, or reductionistic counselor, this verse can aggravate wounds rather than heal them.³ We must always handle God’s word carefully, but especially in cases of deep suffering when the stakes are higher.

To rightfully clarify what Romans 8:28 does mean, we can consider six things it doesn’t mean.

Table of contents

1. It does not promise material prosperity
2. It does not mean that all things that happen are good
3. It does not automatically resolve our sorrow and hurt
4. It does not mean that only some things work for our good
5. It does not mean we will understand how things were for our good
6. It is not a promise that is given to everyone
Hope as a virtue

1. It does not promise material prosperity

First, this verse does not promise our material prosperity.

This verse says that “all things work together for good.” The question arises, What exactly is that good? We might fill in the gaps with our own ideas of what we consider “good”: health, wealth, material success, etc. When we import our own definitions of “good,” it becomes easy to assume God is promising to work all things for our material or earthly prosperity.

Yet just verses later in Romans 8:35–39, Paul mentions “tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword … death” and demonic antagonism⁴ as anticipated features of the Christian life. This is hardly a description of physical well-being and material prosperity. These are among the “all things” that God promises to work for our good. Thus, Romans 8:28 is not promising the absence of or escape from such things. It promises our good despite such things.⁵

Rather, the “good” that God promises here is our salvation. Paul qualifies this “working” as being “for those who are called according to [God’s] purpose.” And that purpose is God’s saving purpose to make us like Christ, that we be “conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom 8:29).

In fact, far from saving us from distress and harm, this verse is promising that God will work all of these things for our good. God uses our afflictions to make us more like Christ (see Rom 5:3–4; Jas 1:2–4; 1 Pet 1:6–7).

Just as we are to share with Christ in glorification, so too, at present, we share with him in his sufferings (Rom 8:17; see also Phil 3:10; 2 Cor 1:5; 1 Pet 2:21; 4:13). As Christ’s path to glory was paved by suffering (Mark 8:31), so our path to glorification with Christ is to be marked by suffering (8:34).

2. It does not mean that all things that happen are good

Second, this verse does not mean that all things that happen are in themselves good.

We can subtly make this mistake, confusing the fact that God works all things for good with the idea that all things God works are in themselves good: “If God works all things for good, then all things that happen are good.”

But this is not what Paul says. Consider those things Paul lists in verses 35–39, the “all things” that God works for good: tribulation, persecution, famine, nakedness, violence, etc.⁶ These things are evil and tragic. The fact that God uses them for our good does not make those things good in themselves.⁷

We can subtly make this mistake, confusing the fact that God works all things for good with the idea that all things God works are in themselves good.

And this distinction matters immensely—especially for those who have suffered abuse or horrific loss. We ought not to call evil good (Isa 5:20–21), lest we give the impression that the abuse done to them or the calamity suffered was itself good.

This is why Scripture includes lament. The Psalter rings with cries of anguish. Its scripts show that we are right to name evil as evil, to grieve what is grievous.

In 1 Peter 1:6–7, Peter uses the illustration of gold purified in fire to describe the purification of our faith through trials. Gold is placed in fire to burn away any impurities. Although the result is our purification, the fire remains what it is: a destructive heat.

So Romans 8:28 does not mean that all things that happen to us are in themselves good. But what it does mean is that, no matter how horrific or evil, God still works these things for our good, for our ultimate conformity to Christ.⁸

Consider all that Joseph endured: sold into slavery by his brothers, falsely accused of sexual assault, wrongfully imprisoned. Yet, although his brothers intended evil against him, he proclaims that God intended it for good—to save people from famine (Gen 50:20).⁹

3. It does not automatically resolve our sorrow and hurt

Third, this promise does not automatically resolve our sorrow and hurt.

Of course, its assurance provides immense relief and hope in our suffering—and we shouldn’t downplay this! Yet, notwithstanding this promise, our anguish doesn’t necessarily disappear.

And it’s fine if it doesn’t. If we’re still hurting, it doesn’t mean that we’ve failed to believe God’s promises. Continued pain is not a referendum on the strength of your faith.

This passage can unfortunately be misused to condemn those who are hurting and in pain. We apply this verse to those in suffering, and when they don’t immediately cheer up, we interpret their ongoing anguish as a failure to trust God’s promise. This adds condemnation and guilt on top of what they’re already suffering.

But consider again the lament psalms. The psalmists express their anguish and bring their complaints to God. Rather than an absence of faith, these complaints are an expression of faith and hope. The psalmists bring their pain to God precisely because they believe he’s sovereign over it, able and willing to do something about their situation. Their lament is faith crying out, not faith giving up.

Or consider 1 Thessalonians 4:13–14, where Paul says believers are unique in that we mourn with hope. We don’t mourn like others do. We have the hope of resurrection. Yet notice: We still mourn. Apparently, mourning is not an absence of hope. Hope doesn’t eliminate our mourning.

Nor does this promise mean that—in this life—we won’t forever carry the scars from what we’ve endured,¹⁰ as if this promise simply undoes what’s happened to us. God’s grace was sufficient for Paul (2 Cor 12:9), but he forever carried his thorn in the flesh (2 Cor 12:7).

But it does mean we have a hope greater than our present pain. As Romans 8:18 says, our present suffering isn’t even worth comparing to this future glory, this “good” that is ours (see also 2 Cor 4:17). Notice: This doesn’t deny our suffering. It’s real. It’s hard. But as the moon eclipses the sun, so our future glory eclipses our present suffering. As Frederick Buechner says, “Resurrection means the worst thing is never the last thing.”¹¹

4. It does not mean that only some things work for our good

Fourth, Paul says that “all things work together for [our] good” (emphasis added), not merely some things.¹²

Scripture testifies to God’s “meticulous providence” (e.g., Ps 139:16; Prov 16:33; Lam 3:37–38; Matt 10:29). Ephesians 1:11 says God “works all things”—not just some things—“according to the counsel of his will.” R. C. Sproul has famously described God’s absolute sovereignty by saying there’s not “a single maverick molecule” that operates outside his control and determination.¹³ All things: not only the macro level but also the micro level.

Some find comfort in the idea that God doesn’t control everything. “He’d stop it if he could,” they say. This allows them to distance God from their pain and from evil. But arguably more comfort is found in the fact that no suffering, abuse, or tragedy we experience roams free, off the leash of God’s control and intent to work it for our good.

No suffering, abuse, or tragedy we experience roams free, off the leash of God’s control and intent to work it for our good.

What’s more comforting: That our suffering exists as an accident outside of God’s purposes, or knowing that “all things”—especially our suffering—has been destined to serve God’s good ends?

In other words, God’s absolute sovereignty, even over our suffering, means that none of it is meaningless. God will not waste an ounce of our suffering. We can take confidence, knowing that whatever we’ve suffered, we did not suffer for naught. All of it—no matter how horrific, no matter how senseless it seems—God will bend in the direction of our good.¹⁴

Even our own sin and mistakes cannot derail God’s purposes for us.¹⁵ Of course, sin is always destructive, and we often live with its painful consequences. But God is so sovereign that he weaves even our failures into our ultimate good. We cannot ruin what God intends to accomplish in us (Phil 1:6).

5. It does not mean we will understand how things were for our good

Fifth, that God “works all things together for good” is not a promise that we will understand how all things we’ve experienced were for our good. It does not mean that we will always be able to look back and discern how God used some particular thing.

We often say that “hindsight is 20/20,” but for many of us, life’s rearview mirror is still clouded by tears and unanswered questions. If you’ve ever looked at the back side of an embroidery, all you see is a chaotic mess of threads: knots, loose ends, and colors. You can’t make sense of it. Yet from the front, the picture is clear. We are like those looking at the back side of an embroidery. We are promised that God is working all things for our good. But we aren’t promised an explanation or insight into God’s own perspective. Often, we can only see the tangled threads.

Consider Job, who at the end of the book, doesn’t get an actual answer for all his suffering. He is not given a “why” for what he went through. Instead he is pointed to the “who” who stands behind it: God and his unparalleled wisdom. The book ends not with explanations but with Job’s worship of a God whose understanding isn’t just greater than ours, it’s not even in the same category as ours.

So the promise that God works all things together for our good doesn’t come with a guarantee that we’ll understand how everything we’ve endured is for our good. But there’s good news in this: This promise doesn’t depend on our ability to grasp it. Our hope does not depend on having complete understanding. We can hope even when we don’t understand.

In fact, if we believe that all things work together to conform us to Christ, then that “all things” includes even our ignorance. Our lack of understanding may provide the very conditions for us to grow in faith, a deeper reliance on God.

In light of Romans 8:28, we might expect people to be able to talk very clearly about how God used their suffering for their good, giving specific testimony to what God did through it. But many may not have that clarity. They may never have it, and that’s fine. Their inability to explain doesn’t indicate a failure to trust. Sometimes faith looks less like confident explanations and more like clinging to God’s promise even when we don’t understand.

6. It is not a promise that is given to everyone

Finally, Romans 8:28 is not a blanket promise that is given to everyone.

Observe the qualifiers in verse 28: “For those who love God … for those who are called according to his purpose.” This promise is for those who love God because they themselves have experienced his saving love and responded with faith.¹⁶ 

This promise is specifically for those who are united to Christ by faith, who are, as Paul says, being conformed into his image. Christ became a human being, died for our wrongdoings, and rose to life so that we could be made like him and participate in what he accomplished. This is the “good” that God has predestined for his people—to be united to Christ, sharing in his death to our sin and resurrection to new life.¹⁷

But like a doctor’s prescription, the medicine is for those whose name is on the bottle. So consider, is this promise yours? And if not, what hope do you have in this life wrecked by evil, suffering, and tragedy? What anchor holds when the storm hits?

God is working in Christ to make all things new—this cursed world, but also you, if only you would put your trust in him. The promise of Romans 8:28 becomes ours through faith in Christ.

Hope as a virtue

As many commentators have pointed out, Romans 5–8 are bookended by the theme of hope. Paul mentions it at the beginning of chapter 5 (vv. 2, 4–5) and returns to it in chapter 8 (vv. 20, 24). Everything in between—including the promise of Romans 8:28—aims to give us hope.

Sometimes we think of hope as simply a condition we find ourselves in if our circumstances happen to be favorable. We are hopeful if things seem hopeful. Hope is something passive. We’re recipients of it, merely responding to our external conditions.

Yet according to Scripture, hope is a virtue. In 1 Corinthians 13:13 it stands alongside faith and love as things we’re called to do.¹⁸ Just as we are called to believe and to love, we are called to hope. It is something we must exercise. And if hope is a virtue, its alternative vice, its sin of omission, is cynicism or despair—a refusal to hope.

Hope is not something we just happen to experience if we’re lucky enough. No, we must fight for it and strive to cultivate it.

And here’s what sustains that hope: That no matter what is taken from us, God himself cannot be. Look at how Paul concludes this section. In Romans 8:35–39, nothing can separate us from God and his saving love for us.

Not a cancer diagnosis.

Not a painful divorce.

Not the death of a loved one.

Not a wayward child.

Not betrayal from friends.

Not horrific abuse.

Not the destruction of your good reputation.

Nothing.

No matter what you’ve suffered or may suffer—no matter the loss—you can never lose God’s saving love. And if you have that, you have everything.

Resources for further reflection

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• Is Paul Describing a Believer or Non-Believer? | Joseph Dodson on Romans 7
• On Spiritual Abuse | Michael Kruger

1. There’s quite a bit of debate over how to properly translate this verse, complicated by at least three factors. First, some manuscripts add ὁ θεός as the explicit subject of the verb “work together.” Second, without that addition, “all things” (πάντα) could be nominative and thus the subject of the verb. So, for instance, the KJV, ESV, NRSVue, CSB, and NET translate this something like, “all things work together for good.” Alternatively, it could be accusative and thus the object of the verb with its subject unstated and implied. In this latter case, most see God as the implied subject (although some contend the subject is the Spirit, mentioned just prior in Rom 8:26–27). So translations like the NASB2020 say, “God causes all things to work together for good” (see also the NIV and NLT). In my estimation, although the above two issues pose legitimate text critical and translation questions, the differences in meaning are negligible. Even if “all things” (πάντα) is the subject, Paul’s theological assumption would undoubtedly be that God is the one who causes “all things” to work together in this way. Third, whereas the above translations take the dative phrase τοῖς ἀγαπῶσιν τὸν θεόν (“those who love God”) as a dative of advantage, yielding “for those who love God” (adopted by most all major translations), others contend that the συν- prefix on συνεργεῖ identifies τοῖς ἀγαπῶσιν τὸν θεόν (“those who love God”) as associates in the verb’s action (e.g., RSV). In this view, God is taken as the subject. Thus, God works not for those who love God but with them: “God works together with those who love him.” (Alternatively, still others take the Spirit from vv. 26–27 as the co-worker with God in “work together.”) From what I can tell, based on other uses of this verb (e.g., Jas 2:22, where faith and works work together), this is syntactically possible. However, this participatory reading seems contextually unlikely. The surrounding verses (Rom 8:29–30) emphasize God’s unilateral sovereign action—his foreknowing, predestining, calling, justifying, and glorifying—with no indication of human co-working. Moreover, the entire section aims to provide assurance to suffering believers (Rom 8:18–39), which would be undermined if the promise depended on their adequate participation in God’s work.
2. And in the case of those who have been abused, this is to condemn people for merely suffering the effects of their abuse, inflicting judgment on top of what they’ve already experienced. Moreover, for those who have suffered spiritual abuse, where Scripture itself may have been misused against them, this is to further weaponize Scripture against them.
3. Gregory the Great offers timeless wisdom here: “Often a wound is made worse by unskilled mending, so that the cut is felt more grievously because it is bound improperly by the bandages”; and again, “For wounds are made worse by untimely surgery, and if a medicine is not suited to a certain situation, it would not be profitable to use it.” Gregory the Great, The Book of Pastoral Rule, trans. George E. Demacopoulos, Popular Patristics Series 34 (St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2007), 67, 78. In other words, there are different remedies for different maladies. As Paul instructs, “Admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all” (1 Thess 5:14). In fact, sometimes the best ministry we can offer to someone in the throes of suffering is “the ministry of shutting up,” merely weeping with those who weep (Rom 12:15). Gregory again: “The spiritual director should be discerning in his silence and profitable in his speech, otherwise he might say something that should have been suppressed or suppress something that should have been said.” Ibid., 54. Again: “But when the spiritual director prepares himself to speak, he must beware to speak cautiously, otherwise if he rushes hastily into speaking without the proper preparation, the hearts of his audience may be struck with the wound of error.” Ibid., 56.
4. Paul often uses terms like “thrones,” “dominions,” “rulers,” and “authorities” to refer to fallen angels. See 1 Cor 15:24; Eph 1:21; 3:10; 6:12; Col 1:16; 2:10, 15. So also Pet 3:22.
5. Scripture repeatedly warns of the danger of greed and material prosperity (e.g., Deut 8:11–14; Prov 30:8–9; Matt 6:24; 19:23–24; 1 Tim 6:9–10. The prosperity gospel claims that God promises our health, wealth, and happiness. But this is to have God feed the very sin of which he warns and saves us from, namely, “the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life” (ESV), that is, “pride in our achievements and possessions” (NLT) (1 John 2:15–16). David W. Jones and Russell S. Woodbridge, Health, Wealth, and Happiness: Has the Prosperity Gospel Overshadowed the Gospel of Christ (Kregel, 2011), 86–87. Moreover, it is to mistake fool’s gold for the real treasure. As C. S. Lewis put it, we are far too easily pleased—content with making mud pies in the slum because we cannot imagine a holiday at the sea. C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory: And Other Addresses (HarperOne, 2001), 26.
6. John Chrysostom: “Now when he speaks of ‘all things,’ he mentions even the things that seem painful. For should even tribulation, or poverty, or imprisonment, or famines, or deaths, or anything else whatsoever come upon us, God is able to change all these things into the opposite. … And this is a much greater thing than hindering the approach of such grievances, or stopping them when they have come.” John Chrysostom, Homilies on the Acts of the Apostles and the Epistle to the Romans, ed. Philip Schaff, trans. J. B. Morris et al., A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of the Christian Church, First Series (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1889), 11:452.
7. Peter Martyr Vermigli: “He did not say that God would make sure that we are not vexed by adverse things, but rather teaches that God overturns their adverse nature so that those things that considered in themselves are only capable of bringing about our destruction now, quite to the contrary, furnish what is useful to us and bring us salvation. They do this not by their own virtue, but due to God’s election and predestination.” Peter Martyr Vermigli, quoted in Gwenfair Walters Adams et al., eds., Romans 1–8: New Testament, Reformation Commentary on Scripture (InterVarsity Academic, 2019), 7:471.
8. Douglas Moo helpfully clarifies, “Certainly Paul does not mean that the evil experienced by believers in this life will always be reversed, turned into good. For many things that we suffer will contribute to our good only by refining our faith and strengthening our hope.” Douglas J. Moo, The Letter to the Romans, ed. Ned B. Stonehouse et al., New International Commentary on the New Testament, 2nd ed. (Eerdmans, 2018), 551.
9. The book of Job also illustrates this important distinction in causation. God permits Satan to afflict Job, who in turn uses both human agents and natural disasters: Sabeans raid Job’s livestock, fire consumes his sheep, Chaldeans steal his camels, a windstorm kills his children (Job 1:6–19), and loathsome sores cover Job’s body (2:1–7). Throughout, Job rightly recognizes God’s sovereignty over these events—an assumption that undergirds the entire book. Yet God is not to be attributed with conducting evil. The secondary causes (e.g., Satan and those things Satan used) are. The Second London Baptist Confession (1689) makes this distinction: “God hath decreed in himself, from all eternity, by the most wise and holy counsel of his own will, freely and unchangeably, all things, whatsoever comes to pass; yet so as thereby is God neither the author of sin nor hath fellowship with any therein; nor is violence offered to the will of the creature, nor yet is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established” (LBCF III.1; see also the WCF III.1). This framework helps us understand that God can sovereignly ordain and work all things—including evil and suffering—for the good of believers without himself being the author of evil or those things being good in themselves.
10. J. R. R. Tolkien captures this reality well in The Return of the King, when Frodo tells Sam: “I have been too deeply hurt, Sam. I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: someone has to give them up, lose them, so others may keep them.” J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, vol 3: The Return of the King (Houghton Mifflin, 1982), 309.
11. From Frederick Buechner, The Final Beast, quoted in Steven R. Tracy, To Heal or Harm: Scripture’s Use as Poison or Medicine for Abuse Survivors (HarperCollins, 2026), 218.
12. If “all things” (πάντα) is taken as the object, not the subject (see n. 1 above), then, as Richard Longenecker observes, Paul may have positioned it at the front “for the sake of emphasis … to highlight the fact that everything that occurs in the life of a Christian, whether viewed from a human perspective as being either ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ is under God’s sovereign supervision.” Richard N. Longenecker, The Epistle to the Romans: A Commentary on the Greek Text, ed. I. Howard Marshall and Donald A. Hagner, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Eerdmans, 2016), 738.
13. He uses this language in many places, but for instance, see R. C. Sproul, Surprised by Suffering: The Role of Pain and Death in the Christian Life (Reformation Trust, 2010), 82.
14. So John Calvin comments, “So far are the troubles of this life from hindering our salvation, that, on the contrary, they are helps to it. … for by a wonderful contrivance he turns those things which seem to be evils in such a way as to promote their salvation.” John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Romans, trans. John Owen (Logos Bible Software, 2010), 314.
15. John Calvin: “Even the sins of the saints are, through the guiding providence of God, so far from doing harm to them, that, on the contrary, they serve to advance their salvation.” Calvin, Romans, 315.
16. We are not guaranteed this promise by first meeting the condition of loving God. Rather this love for God characterizes believers as the product of him first setting his love on us. See 1 John 4:19.
17. So the Heidelberg Catechism (1563), Q&A 26: “I trust him so much that I do not doubt he will provide whatever I need for body and soul, and he will turn to my good whatever adversity he sends me in this sad world. He is able to do this because he is almighty God; he desires to do this because he is a faithful Father … [He] is my God and Father because of Christ his Son” (emphasis added). This material also appears in Hercules Collins’s Baptist adaptation, An Orthodox Catechism (London, 1680), questions 27–28.
18. See also faith, hope, and love, the so-called cardinal virtues, grouped together in 1 Thess 1:3; 5:8; Col 1:4–5; Heb 10:22–24; and 1 Pet 1:21–22.