When God doesn't explain himself...
There are moments when the world stops making sense or when “why?” hangs in the air with no answer. These are moments when even the explanations we come up with sound hollow, even to us.
If you’ve walked with Jesus for any length of time, you know this. Maybe this moment came when the doctor called, or when the casket closed. Maybe you’ve felt this when you prayed for years for something to see no answer.
The truth: faith doesn’t always feel “neat and tidy.” But, this is often where God does brilliant and deep work.
We hate this because we demand clarity and resolution. We want God to “show His work” on the whiteboard in a way we approve - but he does not bow to our demands. Sometimes, instead of answering our questions, He enters our pain.
God’s silence isn't God’s absence.
When Jesus hung on the cross and cried, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He entered our most human cry: “Gosh Lord, where are you?” The irony is that in the moment Jesus felt forsaken, God was accomplishing the greatest act of love the world would ever know. The mystery of the cross teaches us that sometimes the greatest displays of divine faithfulness are the ones that make the least sense in real time.
Walking by faith isn’t walking by explanation.
If you’re in a season where you can’t see what God is doing, that doesn’t mean you’ve stepped off the path. We’re never promised that we’ll understand every step of God’s plan for His creation. In fact, Proverbs 3:5 doesn’t implore us to “trust in God only when we understand what is going on” but to “trust in God without leaning on our own understanding.” When you know the character of God, you can live within tension and mystery without understanding.
I know when I am in grief, I’m tempted to think I need answers to move forward. But answers rarely heal hearts. Only the presence of God does that. God gives Himself, and this is better than giving answers. He collects our tears, enters our suffering, and redeems our pains.
God’s final word.
Eventually, we must decide what is weightier for us, our pain - or - His cross. The cross doesn’t tell us everything we want to know about suffering, but it tells us what we most need to know: that God is not indifferent to it. God can never be accused of standing far off as some spectator. His entrance into our suffering silences such accusations. So when God doesn’t explain Himself - simply look again at the cross.
We don’t stand still in the fog.
Grief is a fog, or at least feels foggy to me. It’s hard to see where you’re going or how long the road will be. It seems like it goes forever. But faith doesn’t demand visibility (“How much longer!?!”) only direction. You don’t need to see far ahead to keep walking. You just need to know the One who walks with you. This takes quiet and persistent resolve - and great gospel remembrance. When you don’t feel anything and your voice cracks often, quiet resolve continues to pray and trust. Just because we hurt and believe at the same time is no reason to stop. Those two realities can coexist.
One day…
One day, our most burning questions will fade in the light of glory. We won’t care anymore. The ache will be gone. Until then, we walk by trust, not because we understand, but because we are understood and have the presence of God with us in the fog. The God who knit you together holds fast. The God who wept at Lazarus’s tomb still weeps with you. You may not get the answers you want, but you have the heart of the One you need. And that is enough.