To ask in the midst of suffering.
You’ll most likely not discover the answer. Not right away anyways. Not to a degree that is at all satisfying. Not sufficiently to alleviate the suffering—which is really why you’d ask that in the first place. I place no judgment on anyone who asks “Why?” It’s quite natural, and perhaps fumbling around in the dark with that question for a while is a necessary step in preparing you for the other questions.
Here are some other questions worth taking time with in the midst suffering:
Who is in this with me? Do have trusted people that I can be completely honest and vulnerable with? Do I have people who will simply sit in silence with me? Do I have people who are willing to wait this out with me, however long it takes? Do I have people who will encourage me to remain open—to both others and to God? Do I have people who will be bold enough to stop me from making bone-headed decisions out of my pain?
What is changing in me? Can I be honest with the weaknesses being revealed in me? Can I name ways in which this might be making me stronger? Can I articulate values that are being challenged or changed, added or removed? Can I sense ways in which I am becoming less self-reliant and more God-reliant? Can I tell when my false self is being unmasked? Can I accept my suffering as growing pains as I become a more mature and fully “me” me?
When was the last time I lamented? Have I been shying away from grief? Have I been stuffing my sorrows under the proverbial rug? Have I kept myself overly-guarded before God? Before others who can handle it when I uncork my emotions? Can I name what I have lost or fear that I might be losing? Have I found help in any prayers or songs that help articulate my grief? Can I describe what it feels like to vomit out all my sorrow in God’s loving and safe presence?
Where do I still sense God’s presence? Are my normal places and practices no longer “working for me”? Are there old rhythms of connecting with God that are worth returning to? Are there new rhythms of connecting with God that are worth trying out? Do I ever notice his presence or activity in the natural world around me? Do I ever sense his image being reflected to me via another human being? Do I ever sit still enough, quiet enough, for long enough to give my shy spirit a chance to come out and commune with his Spirit?
In these questions, beyond the demand of “Why?”, you just might find that David spoke truthfully when he sang:
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
Psalm 34:18
