When life doesn't make sense.

I don't know why, but I do know God.

Today marks thirty-one days straight in the Bible for me. It’s a personal record. I’m not patting myself on the back (or asking you to), but I feel led to memorialize it with some thoughts. My own attempt at a proverbial altar to mark this moment in my story as I begin trekking through God’s story.

The first couple of weeks I sat with Job in his suffering. It's a storyline I never fully understood…and still don’t. So many unanswered questions and yet so much faith. Therein lies a banner I hope to waive over my own life.

This past week has brought many prayer requests to my inbox and the news cycle has brought plenty of opportunities for the same. Deep, heavy burdens from people with deep, heavy questions. Questions I don’t have answers for.

I don’t know why a plane and a helicopter collided on a perfect, starry night.

I don’t know why babies are taken before they have a chance to breathe outside the womb.

I don’t know why a four-year-old child is killed in a tragic accident just feet from his parents.

I don’t know why cancer takes over the bodies of young girls who haven’t experienced life yet.

I don’t know why moms die in their sleep before they get a chance to see their children wed and meet their grandchildren.

I don’t know why all of these bad things happen. I have thoughts about it, but I can’t explain it all. I know we live in a fallen world, and I know from reading Genesis it wasn’t supposed to be this way. When sin entered, all of hell entered with it.

I also know my “Christianese” can fall cold on hearts hanging by a thread to just. hang. on.

So, I take what I can take from spending time with God these last thirty-one days and sixteen years since that hot afternoon sitting on a rock on our farm’s creekbed, when I came to the end of me and gave it to Him.

I take the faith of men like Job and Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph and make it my own as much as I can. I take the hurt of Hagar and feel seen by the same God, El Roi, that saw her. I take the doubts of Moses and give them to God, asking for His help to give me the words when I don’t have the words to say.

The lump in my throat writing these words and the tears falling on my cheeks are as real as the peace and comfort I feel from God. It’s a peace that’s unexplainable. It’s a comfort not found in anyone or anything else.

I don’t know why bad things happen, but I know that I know that I know, God can bring good from all things. I know because I’ve lived it. I know because He said so, and by His nature, He can’t lie. I know He draws near to the brokenhearted and hears our cries for help.

“I believe, help my unbelief.” I pray that a lot. And when I don’t know what to pray, I know the Holy Spirit is interceding on my behalf and can interpret my groans to the Father - yours, too.

As an adopted Child of God, we have Hope. If you don’t know Jesus, I can’t give you what I have. We have to accept Him on our own volition. Our own free will. The free will God gave us as a measure of grace.

He didn’t want robots. He gave us hearts. He gave us feelings. He gave us the ability to love…and hurt. I know that nothing I’ll ever experience on this earth is anything He didn’t feel or experience when He walked it. Our God knows our pain. He feels our pain and I believe He weeps with us. God wants our hearts and I know, after these thirty-one days meeting with Him, I want nothing more than to have more of a heart like His.

xx,

m

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