If You Can’t Stop Asking God Why

This post has been simmering on the back burner of my mind for several years. I finally wrote it a few months ago but held off on sharing it because it just didn’t feel like the right time. Until now, that is. The story I’m about to tell you has anchored my heart during some extremely trying circumstances recently, and I hope it encourages you today as well.

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During the Great Recession, the construction industry in our area was hit hard and my husband Randy was laid off. After about three months, he was able to land another job with the local office of an out-of-state masonry subcontractor.

It wasn’t a position he would have chosen under more favorable market conditions, but it was work, and we were thankful or it. Then, about a year later, a recruiter from a large general contractor called him out of the blue and asked him if he was interested in interviewing for a job with her firm.

The position was closer to what Randy had done previously, so he embarked on a multiple-interview process that came down to him and one other person. When the company decided to go with the other guy, Randy was disappointed but not heartbroken. He was grateful that he had a job at all during a time when many construction companies were still closing or laying people off.

Life went on. Not long after—I think it was in late May or early June—we decided to take advantage of lower interest rates and refinance our house. We had barely started this process when his employer announced that it was closing its Kansas City office. In August 2010, Randy would be out of work for the second time in 18 months.

The company hadn’t been doing well, so the news wasn’t a complete surprise. But as my resourceful husband geared up for another job search, my mind was stuck in backward mode.

Asking “why?” is not normally my go-to response when I’m in the middle of a trial. It’s just not how my brain works. In this case, though, I kept going back to that job opportunity that hadn’t worked out.

What was the point of that? I fretted. Given our current situation, why on earth did God let Randy get that far in the process only to not get the job?

A friend of mine calls these events “dangling miracles”—when God offers up what appears to be the perfect solution to a pressing problem, only to seemingly yank it away at the last minute. If there was ever a time when we might be tempted to grumble, “Seriously, God? What were you thinking?” this would be it.

I needed to process my feelings about what was going on and how I was supposed to respond to it. So one hot day, I threw my journal in a tote bag with our beach towels, and the girls and I walked down to our neighborhood pool. While they splashed around in the water, I sat in a lounge chair and started writing.

At the top of the page, I scrawled this phrase from my favorite Bible verse:

“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you …” (Deut. 31:8)

Then I wrote, “God knew …” followed by a list of pertinent details from the last several months. Here, edited for clarity, are some examples.

God knew …

• Randy was going to go through all those interviews for the job and not get it.

• Randy was going to lose his job in August and He still didn’t allow him to get the job in March.

• Randy was going to lose his job in August, and He still allowed us to spend nearly $10,000 on our insurance deductible earlier that year.

• We would need to spend $500 on our brakes before learning that the office was going to close.

• What the job market would be like when Randy’s office closed.

• That a friend from another company would hire someone with Randy’s qualifications three weeks before Randy called him about a job.

There it was—in black, ballpoint ink. A brief, vastly incomplete summary of what our sovereign God was perfectly well aware of before Randy found out his office was closing.

It’s true. We could have avoided all this stress and uncertainty if Randy had just gotten hired by the other company just a few months earlier. From where I sat, there by the pool, that would have made a lot more sense. And yet, obviously, that’s not what had happened.

Looking back, I find it interesting that I wrote “God knew …” at the top of the page instead of the more familiar phrase “God knows.”

For me, “God knows” evokes everything that is comforting about our God who has borne our sorrows and collects our tears in His bottle. It’s like a parent comforting a distraught child—“Mommy knows, honey … it will be OK.”

On the other hand, “God knew” is solely and completely about trust.

I’ve pondered this quite a bit since that summer day by the pool. I’ve considered my questions, my list and my desire for logical explanations. And I’ve come to realize that if I want my faith to grow, I have to reframe my thinking.

When Randy got laid off the second time, my first inclination was to ask, “If God knew …, then WHY?” That’s a natural response, but it doesn’t get us very far, does it? Eventually, banging our heads against a wall of whys will only lead to anger, frustration and despair.

A better, more helpful way to think is this: “God knew … and He still …”

This statement takes the focus off all the unanswerable questions and places it on God’s sovereignty, goodness, trustworthiness and ultimate purposes.

I still don’t know why Randy didn’t get that job only a few months before his company closed its Kansas City office. But God knew, and there’s peace in believing that He must have had a reason for the way things turned out. Not an “everything-happens-for-a-reason” cliché explanation. A holy, possibly inexplicable purpose that was somehow designed for our good and His glory.

Even if I never learn the purpose, I can choose to trust that God had one.

After that day at the pool, I came home and wrote those two words on a pink index card. I put it on my refrigerator door, where it’s been ever since.

God knew.

I think of this often when something happens that I don’t understand. When another tragedy strikes, when a friend gets bad news, when a loved one suffers, when disappointment hits hard, when I get sucked into rehashing the whys again.

God knew.

Somehow, there’s comfort in that.

As for Randy, he got a contract job with another construction company that turned into a full-time position after a few months, then took him to a project out of town (See here for a bit more of that story). Our family set out on a journey that none of us would have chosen but that definitely prepared us for future challenges. I can see this now, though I certainly couldn’t see it then.

But God knew.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, Let’s Have Coffee, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.