Even if

It started as a regular end-of-summer get-together.

Oysters, raw and steamed. Chicken nuggets for the kids. (I probably ate about 20 over the course of the evening.) Wings. And drinks.

Adults and kids milling about the pool, the food, in the house. It was a wonderful time of both catching up with friends and meeting new ones.

The sun went down and those with little kids went home. Older kids moved inside, girls watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns and boys playing Mario Kart. The women ended up on a couple of comfy outdoor couches by a fan. The men were over by the grill.

Sometimes I am absolutely amazed (although never completely surprised) how long I can just sit and talk to friends. Time just ceased to exist and we talked about our kids, our parents, college, diets, marriage, just a little bit of everything. (That’s just how our minds work.)

But the easy flow of conversation suddenly screeched to a halt and things got serious.

Maybe because it was getting late.
Maybe because we had been drinking.
Or maybe sometimes shit just gets real.

My friend who was hosting the event asked the question, and I mean THE QUESTION. You’ve heard it and said it a million times. It’s the question with no answer.

“If God is so good, how can He let stuff like that happen?”

I can’t remember exactly what the ‘that’ was, but it doesn’t matter. The question hung in the air for a couple of seconds, a couple of potential answers were offered. And then everybody was looking at me. It was my turn to take a stab at it. But I didn’t want a turn.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, I know He’s good. I know He’s all-powerful. I know He knows everything. But…sometimes I just can’t square it with what I’m seeing.”

“Right. That’s my point,” my friend persisted. “So how does it work? Seriously?”

I exhaled a defeated breath and shook my head. “I have no idea.”

They all looked at me in disappointment. Apparently, I was supposed to have the answer. They continued with possible explanations or answers but were just ending up with more questions.

It was time to bail.

“You know, Brad really wrestled with this for a long time when he went through his divorce. I’ll go get him.” I stood up, walked around the corner and called, “Brad! We need a theologian over here!”

It seriously may as well be the Bat Signal. Our hero swooped into rescue the damsels in distress.

“What’s up, ladies?” He grinned confidently. I stood nearby and watched.

My friend’s voice was getting more desperate as more time passed without a real answer. “If God is so good, why does He let bad things happen?”

The grin melted off Brad’s face. I watched it change to the face that says, “I really want to minister to this person and comfort them but I don’t have the answer and I struggle with this too.”

I had seen him struggle with it myself. On MY behalf actually.

I have this ongoing off-and-on extreme shoulder/upper back pain. Several yea

rs ago it flared up worse than ever. On a scale of 1 to 10, it was easily a 9. And I have a pretty high pain threshold.

After months of going to every kind of doctor, physical therapy, pills, massages, etc. it still remained. One night I was in so much pain, I was near tears. Brad felt powerless to help. Finally he started praying. (Somehow often our last resort.) When he finished praying he was furious.

He pointed toward Sydney’s room and growled, “If my daughter were in pain and I could stop it with a word, it would be over in an instant. What kind of good Father can just watch his daughter hurt like this?”

(He and God have all their wrestling matches in private and I share this story with his permission. When he preaches/teaches, it’s the Bible. Period. And the answer to the pain issue was/is a TENS unit. Big fan.)

Back to the theological discussion at the party.

Being the outward processor that he is, Brad began talking, I think hoping if he just started maybe the answer would eventually come out. This was gonna take a while.

“I’m just gonna go see what the boys are doing,” I interjected and slipped inside to join the guys playing Mario Kart. (Which is, by the way, like learning a language. Use it or lose it. I had clearly lost it. Beau informed me that I never had it. Hmph.)

We eventually went home, The Question still hanging in the air like a ghost.

(Let me just go ahead and tell you right now: this post does not contain the answer to this question. Sorry for the spoiler alert. Just didn’t want to waste your time, if that’s what you were looking for.)

It haunted both of us for a few days and I could tell God had begun a new project in my heart. Because suddenly, that question was everywhere. On Facebook. On TV. In movies.

And there were three verses that kept turning over and over in my head like a rock tumbler.

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and He will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if He does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”
Daniel 3:17-18

“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.”
Luke 1:38

“Father, if You are willing, take this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.”
Luke 22:42

(That last one is Jesus, by the way. Even the will of Jesus, the Son of God clashed with the will of God the Father, to His great peril. And He surrendered anyway. But I’m not sure that’s entirely fair because Jesus was in on The Plan from the beginning. He knew/knows the answer to The Question.)

The theme continued when one of our pastors mentioned a Christian imprisoned for his faith in another country in his prayer one Sunday.

God, You know what You could do? You could just fling that prison door wide open. You could just fling open ALL the prison doors imprisoning ALL Christians ALL over the WHOLE WORLD. Then EVERYBODY would know…

Yes, I could do that. But what if I don’t? Will you still trust Me? And in your own struggles, will you trust that I am working in and through your pain?

I sighed. Yes, Lord. I will. I will.

I usually listen to playlists I’ve made on my phone. Haven’t listened to the radio in I don’t know how long. But for some reason the other day I turned it on Z83 (Christian station). The first song that came on was Even If by MercyMe. I heard the lyrics and said out loud to myself, “Are you kidding me?”

I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You’d just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone

In my own life, it’s never been bad enough for me to demand a WHY? for myself. But I’ve been to Haiti. I read/watch the news. I have friends who have been through the unspeakable, who are far better people than I am. And I’ve thrown more than enough angry WHYs? up to heaven on the behalf of others. (Being codependent sucks.)

But here’s what I’ve decided about The Question: There is no answer that would satisfy us. There is nothing anyone could say to someone who has lost a child when the grieving parent would wipe their eyes, shrug their shoulders and say, “Okay, yeah. That makes sense.”

I’m convinced that even if we did get an answer, it wouldn’t make us feel any better.

It just… is.

And there are these three annoying verses (and so many more) where people, GOOD people, hold up their hands and say, “Your call, God. Even if it means pain for me. Even if You don’t give me what I’m praying for. Even if I never know why, Your way is best. So be it.”

Want me to make you roll your eyes and gag? Check this out:

I have never doubted God’s goodness. Not ever.

I don’t know if it’s the spiritual gift of faith. Or just that nothing THAT bad has ever happened to me. But He is good. He loves His people (especially me). I know it down to my toenails.

This is not a ‘it’s possible’ or ‘maybe’ or ‘most likely’ kind of thing. This is a fact I would bet my life on. I just know. I don’t know why. Maybe I never will.

But I know Him. And He’s just so good, even better than we can imagine.

So that’s it. I told you there would be no answer. I don’t know why. Even if there are some desperate WHYs? heading straight for me, will my faith collapse like a house of cards?

Or will I be able to join the suffering servants of generations before and generations to come in saying, “Even if You don’t, my hope is You alone.”