When God Doesn't Seem Good
"I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand and you only look at me. You have turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you persecute me." Job 30:20-21
I have doubted his goodness. In fact, I've doubted his goodness more than not. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have called God a bully and wrestled with his intentions in prayer. I have accused him of being a horrific beast who is basking in my anguish. I've imagined him on his glorious throne with a bowl of extra buttery Orville Redenbacher waving his magic wand ushering the rain to keep pouring. The storms are sudden and they are so constant that it's caused a flood and I'm left stranded without a vessel. Assuming there's even somewhere that it could take me where the land is dry and the sun beams down in righteousness.
I haven't doubted his power. I have cried out to him reminding him that he could intervene. I have pleaded with him to give mercy on my soul. "How long, oh Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?" (Psalm 13:1-2).
But he remained silent. For so long I have heard nothing more than the whispers of laughter coming from the heavenly realm. "What's the point in all of this? What are you trying to prove?" The more I prayed to try to understand, the angrier I became. And the angrier I was, the more dangerous my heart was in the line of fire. I was mad at him. Mad that he didn't seem to be on my team. It's so easy for the author of lies to take that opportunity to turn us even more against the maker of the universe. As flawed humans, we take comfort in having our feelings validated. Unfortunately, there is someone who is always first in line to assure us that God is not good.
If I am constantly doubting his goodness, then I am not living in the joy of the Lord. That joy is a freedom that I seldom feel. What I would give to have some of this weight taken off my chest. What I would do to experience an unexplainable joy day in and day out that draws people to Jesus in me. But my spirit's delight has become a moment of circumstances. But Jesus is not circumstantial; he is constant and unwavering. He is abiding and unshakable. Despite the tide of emotional turmoil, he rescued us from the death and persecution that we so undeniably deserve. Sometimes the consequences of the sin we live in can feel like his wrath drenching us, leaving us with no room to breath while we drown in our sorrows.
"Count it all joy my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness." (James 1:1-2). I don't know what he's up to. In fact, I don't think I've ever been able to figure out his master plan. But, at some point I have to stop being so arrogant and accept that it's not always about me. Really, it's never about me. He promises us good. Good is when he is glorified. Good is when he gets the praises. And sometimes he burns down cities to assure he gets the honor he deserves. So lord, burn my city, leave me widowed, take my health, and destroy my crops. Bring glory to your name through me.
I don't have any expert advice about what to do or how to pray when the valley is growing deeper everyday. I don't know that I'll even get right the very next time I'm tumbling down the rocky road of pain and sadness. But the Holy Spirit is alive enough in me to keep convicting me of my addiction to doubting his goodness in the midst of it all. It's tempting to stop believing no matter what our circumstances are. It's easy to think about abandoning what seems to have let us down too many times before. But that's the point of faith. Thankfully, he doesn't call us to blind faith. No, he's sending us glimpses of eternity. He's flirting with our souls with every breath he gives.
"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." (1 Peter 5:10)
I have doubted his goodness. In fact, I've doubted his goodness more than not. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I have called God a bully and wrestled with his intentions in prayer. I have accused him of being a horrific beast who is basking in my anguish. I've imagined him on his glorious throne with a bowl of extra buttery Orville Redenbacher waving his magic wand ushering the rain to keep pouring. The storms are sudden and they are so constant that it's caused a flood and I'm left stranded without a vessel. Assuming there's even somewhere that it could take me where the land is dry and the sun beams down in righteousness.
I haven't doubted his power. I have cried out to him reminding him that he could intervene. I have pleaded with him to give mercy on my soul. "How long, oh Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?" (Psalm 13:1-2).
But he remained silent. For so long I have heard nothing more than the whispers of laughter coming from the heavenly realm. "What's the point in all of this? What are you trying to prove?" The more I prayed to try to understand, the angrier I became. And the angrier I was, the more dangerous my heart was in the line of fire. I was mad at him. Mad that he didn't seem to be on my team. It's so easy for the author of lies to take that opportunity to turn us even more against the maker of the universe. As flawed humans, we take comfort in having our feelings validated. Unfortunately, there is someone who is always first in line to assure us that God is not good.
If I am constantly doubting his goodness, then I am not living in the joy of the Lord. That joy is a freedom that I seldom feel. What I would give to have some of this weight taken off my chest. What I would do to experience an unexplainable joy day in and day out that draws people to Jesus in me. But my spirit's delight has become a moment of circumstances. But Jesus is not circumstantial; he is constant and unwavering. He is abiding and unshakable. Despite the tide of emotional turmoil, he rescued us from the death and persecution that we so undeniably deserve. Sometimes the consequences of the sin we live in can feel like his wrath drenching us, leaving us with no room to breath while we drown in our sorrows.
"Count it all joy my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness." (James 1:1-2). I don't know what he's up to. In fact, I don't think I've ever been able to figure out his master plan. But, at some point I have to stop being so arrogant and accept that it's not always about me. Really, it's never about me. He promises us good. Good is when he is glorified. Good is when he gets the praises. And sometimes he burns down cities to assure he gets the honor he deserves. So lord, burn my city, leave me widowed, take my health, and destroy my crops. Bring glory to your name through me.
I don't have any expert advice about what to do or how to pray when the valley is growing deeper everyday. I don't know that I'll even get right the very next time I'm tumbling down the rocky road of pain and sadness. But the Holy Spirit is alive enough in me to keep convicting me of my addiction to doubting his goodness in the midst of it all. It's tempting to stop believing no matter what our circumstances are. It's easy to think about abandoning what seems to have let us down too many times before. But that's the point of faith. Thankfully, he doesn't call us to blind faith. No, he's sending us glimpses of eternity. He's flirting with our souls with every breath he gives.
"And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you." (1 Peter 5:10)
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