with us . . . through the whys

It often makes no sense. We just received a call from a friend of ours, telling us that her three-year-old grandson, who had been fighting cancer, passed away. He’s just a child, a cute little boy, a person who had barely begun to live. And now he’s gone.

His parents are now enduring the agony of this loss, and everyone is, understandably, stymied by this tragedy. And, as naturally happens, you can’t help but ask, Why? Why does God allow for such horrific things to take place? Why does he let little children suffer? Why would he put caring parents and grandparents through such emotional torture? Why, if this is indeed God’s world, is this world so filled with awful realities? Why? Why? Why?

There are a number of answers that people tend to give. The hardliners would probably say that we are all sinners, and so we all deserve what we get. Even if they have enough couth to avoid saying such language in public, they definitely talk about it behind the scenes. There is, of course, a measure of truth in this outlook, for we are indeed fallen creatures who have incurred the penalty of separation from our Maker. Still, this answer is trite, unfeeling, and doesn’t come to grips with other equally powerful Scriptural truths (divine mercy, etc.) or the sheer immensity of human suffering. When I hear such talk, I want to smack those who can speak in such one-sided and mean ways.

Of course there are others who just as quickly place such horrific situations into a neat and tidy compartment of heavenly bliss. If someone suffers or dies, everything is okay, for the deceased has presumably gone to be with the Lord. Let’s be clear. It is an immense consolation to recognize the current bliss of those who go to be with Jesus. Indeed, it is one of the fundamental features of human hope. Grief takes on a different hue when it is a hopeful grief. However, and this is important, it is a grief, nonetheless. Though we have hope, it is a hurting hope, a limping hope, a sometimes questioning or doubting hope, a heartbroken hope.

Why?–It haunts us throughout life, and it finds no complete and airtight answer. Yes, there are important truths to anchor the soul (such as the hope just mentioned). Yes, there is a future for those who believe. Yes, there are theological concepts (divine sovereignty) that, rightly perceived and applied, can greatly impact us for good. But there are still the questions and the uncertainty and the frustration and the anger and whatever else pierces our souls.

Thus, while some answers are certainty available, our greatest consolation is a Person, the One who chose to live among us, who decided–for our sake–to join us in our misery. There is comfort in the One who weeps with the hurting, grieves with the distraught, walks with the traumatized. One day, Scripture tells us, God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. This is an incredible and sometimes difficult to fathom promise. Until then, we travel through this life, surrounded by struggles, hassles, and, far too often, disgusting circumstances. But we do not travel alone. We can and must lean on the divine-human traveler. He hears us and absorbs our complaints and pains. He is with us still, through all our whys, even to the end of the world.