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As I sit in the waiting room there are so many people here that look so healthy and I wonder what they are doing here. They surely don’t have cancer but they must; it’s the Cancer Center. And then I get angry because Vic sits in a wheelchair looking like a 90-year-old man and struggling to beat this monster. Why him? Why doesn’t he look like all the other “healthy” cancer patients? Are they beating it or has the monster just not beaten them up badly enough yet? Either way, I fight the anger. Although I trust that God is in control, my human side, in its numb state still asks, why him? Why isn’t he beating this? Why isn’t he getting good results? WHY? WHY? In my anger, I feel no rebuke just a still small voice that says, “You are not alone.”
Those were my thoughts typed into my Notes app while my husband and I sat in the waiting room of our local cancer center five years ago. Little did I know that it would be our last visit and that two days later, I would walk out of the hospital a widow.
That was not the first time I asked God why, and it wasn’t my last. To be honest, I have asked why more times than I can count over the last five years since my husband’s death.
I needed answers!
We all want answers to our questions. We believe if we knew the reasons for our pain and suffering that somehow that would make it all better.
There were also a lot of “what?” questions.
- What good can come of my husband’s death?
- What is my purpose now that I am not a wife?
Then there were the “how?” questions.
- How am I going to do this alone?
- How am I going to go on living without him?
Many heroes of the Bible have questioned God; men like Job, David, and even Jesus. He called Job righteous (Job 1:8), and David “a man after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14) and Jesus, “my beloved son with whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:7) Their questioning didn’t change how God felt about them. He didn’t always answer their questions, but He still loved them and used them in the Kingdom for the Kingdom.
I love the Psalms because the psalmists are always authentic in expressing their emotions. They tell it like it is. Another reason I am endeared to the Psalms is their lamenting also brought a renewed trust in God. They may have lingered in their pain but they didn’t live there.
Heaven knows I have done my fair share of lamenting! Like the psalmists, I have held nothing back.
My lamenting, the pouring out of the consuming pain and sorrow, drives me to God’s Word, where He speaks and I find peace and comfort.
God’s word reminds me that His ways are not our ways. (Isaiah 55:8-9) That’s a hard pill to swallow, I get it! I didn’t like that answer either. I liked my plan!
But there lies the problem … it was MY plan.
I am also reminded that God is my refuge and strength (Psalm 46) and He covers me with his wings (Psalm 91:4). And because He works all things together for the good of those who love him (Romans 8:28) and He is with me always, I need not be discouraged or afraid (Joshua 1:9).
Even though I may not have gotten answers to my questions, my trust in God was restored and therefore, my strength. (Isaiah 30:15)
Father, may we find the answers we need by the power of the Holy Spirit in Your Word and prayer as we pour out our immense pain to You. Comfort our hearts as only You can and fill us with Your love and peace.