What the h***?!?
No matter how old I get, how much theological or life perspective I think I gain, I’m still occasionally side-swiped by events or experiences that leave me reeling. Things happen to people that don’t make sense. People make decisions that, at least from my perspective, are completely crazy. Tragedy (or at least inordinate suffering) befalls people I care deeply about. I’m left asking the age-old question of “Why?” And I have no answer. Still.
I get why people struggle with some particularly harmful manifestations of Christianity. It’s all too easy to speak platitudes or quote scripture that’s supposed to, at best, make us feel better and at worst, keep us silenced. Our doubts need to be quelled. Our faith needs to increase. Our questions need to cease. Our answers need to be relegated to Someone Else’s discernment and understanding. What the h***?!?
That’s not what I want to perpetuate or believe. When the life of my daughter’s is irreparably impacted, no pat answers will suffice. When the ongoing development of a child I love is suddenly seen in a much new light – and one that will require tremendous amounts of patience and grace and labor over the years – I don’t want to be told to have more faith. I want to scream. I have to believe that God – no matter the form he/she/it takes – gets my response and on some level is even saying, “What the h***!?!” as well.
What I do know is that despite my confusion and sadness in these realms, there are always people who graciously give me hope and remind me that God still exists, still cares, and screams alongside me. They don’t remind me of this because they tell me such is true. They remind me of this because they embody and inhabit God’s heart on my behalf. They become the manifestation of the incarnation for me. I need little more, really. Certainly not the platitudes or verses. These relationships remind me that I’m not crazy, that my feelings are legitimate, and that sometimes saying “What the h***!?!” is the most appropriate response.
I still ask “Why?” but with less a sense of demand. Instead, or at least in addition, I breathe a sigh of thanks that there are others in my life who ask the same question alongside me, have no better answers, and don’t feel a need to provide them.
Together we say, “What the h***?!?” and know we are not alone.
At least today, that’s enough…
We wake, if ever at all, to mystery.
(Annie Dillard)
The question, ‘How can you believe in a God who permits suffering on this scale?’ is therefore very much around at the moment, and it would be surprising if it weren’t – indeed it would be wrong if it weren’t.
(Rowan Williams, after the 2004 Asian tsunami)
Adversity is like a strong wind
It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn,
so that we see ourselves as we really are.
(Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha)
Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host.
But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.
(Maya Angelou)
Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world.
(Oscar Wilde)
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thank you. i am in a spot lately where i am saying What the H#$$ too. Unearthed childhood stuff and daily seeing s#$%$ in this world. I am glad to see i am not alone, i am also seeing i have friends that come alongside me and say what the h#$%^ right with me. THey will slug it out with me, let me share my inmost pains and sorrows, yet hold me and not walk away from me. I pray you are surrounded by the same. Also to Know God/Jesus is with you in it saying the same. what the h$%^% and holding you and nodding his head and crying right along with you… Thanks for your post it helped.. as you can see miss verbal here. :O)
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