“Why are not times of judgment kept by the Almighty, and why do those who know him never see his days?” (Job 24:1).
There are certain individuals who are qualified to speak by virtue of what they have experienced in life. Elisabeth Elliot, for example, lost her husband, who was killed by the Aucas he had gone to evangelize. She knows first-hand something of tremendous pain and loss and grief. C.S. Lewis could write of pain, numbness, and loneliness—he lost his wife to cancer. He’s been there. He knows what the dark valley is all about. Doug Herman is qualified as a spokesperson as well. When the church he was serving discovered that his wife and his little infant daughter were HIV positive, they first isolated him, then fired him. In the months that followed, he first lost the little girl, born with AIDS, then his wife—a victim of tainted blood.
It’s only natural that our hearts cry out, “Why, God?” when things go wrong and we lose someone we love. Elisabeth Elliot wrote that “God will see to it that we understand as much truth as we are willing to obey.” In other words, she believes that only those who have completely committed their lives and souls to the Lord are in a position to say, “How come, God?”
Doug Herman, having lost his wife and baby, faced the prospect of raising their little boy as a single dad. He lost his church, his wife, his daughter, and his brother in a matter of months. Was he bitter? No, but he was crushed—deeply wounded in spirit. The title of his book, What Good Is God?, which deals with finding faith and hope in troubled times–reflects his pain. The last sentence of Doug’s book answers the question he posed in the title, “What Good is God?” He says, “He allows us to live again. His goodness knows no bounds”[1].
A lot of folks have had God on the witness stand. “If He is good,” goes their reasons, “why didn’t He prevent …?” And long lists of options present themselves. Few acknowledge or think about the fact that ours is an evil world, and that God’s children are not immune from the rottenness and filth wrought by a depraved and evil person. This means that children sometimes become the victims of sadists and perverts; innocent individuals become causalities. At times, disease and pestilence stalk us, and both the righteousness and the wicked fall to its onslaught.
Question: When difficulty comes, is it wrong to ask, “God, why did you allow this?” Many, however, turn on Him with anger and vengeance rather than turn to Him for comfort and healing when grief keeps them from understanding, even if God should speak audibly and say, “This is why.”
He lived long before my time; nonetheless, I would like to have sat at the feet of George MacDonald. It is said that C.S. Lewis never wrote a book in which he didn’t either quote or paraphrase what MacDonald said. MacDonald was simple yet deep; penetrating yet perceptive; practical but profound. He wrote, “Questions imply answers. If God has put the question in my heart, then He must hold the answer in His. I will seek them from Him. I will wait, but not until I have knocked. I will be patient, but not until I have asked. I will seek until I find. He has something for me. My prayers shall go up unto the God of my faith.”
I am convinced that when we get to heaven, one of two things will be true: Either we will understand, or else it just won’t matter—and I think that’s more likely.
In the Upper Room, Jesus told the disciples, “Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice” (John 16:22). That, friend, will be when we understand.
Resource reading: Job 1.
[1] (Doug Herman, Baker Book House, 2002, p. 212)
