Embracing the Hard Questions

The email came from a friend. A well-respected speaker and author would be in our hometown speaking at our local high school. His mission was to speak to students and engage in a healthy forum about whether God does exist and whether we can believe in Him.

Fascinating. Apologetics explained at a high school level: I’m in! Our schedule was miraculously open and we as a family committed on going and bringing our four children, who at the time ranged from 11 to 3 years of age.

Photo Cred: www.overflowcreativestudio.com

Months prior, my third child, who was six years old at the time, awoke in the middle of the night screaming in terror about snakes in her room. This was not common for her and I was racking my brain to think if we had seen any movies or read any books about snakes lately, but there was nothing to my recollection. In my slumber and through her screams, I gathered that she truly believed there were snakes all around her bed. This seemingly random result of her terrorizing imagination was haunting her and preventing any of us from getting a wink of sleep. My husband was out of town traveling, and I was left to think through calming tactics to help her get rest at 2am.

First plan: state the obvious. There are no snakes. I turned on the lamp. There were no snakes. We looked around, under the bed, in the bathroom. It didn’t help. 

Next plan: remind her of truth. I reminded her she is safe and we are all here together. That didn’t help either.

Last idea: pull out the big guns. I spoke truth of a big God who was watching over her and would protect her come what may. Seemed like that should help in my logical brain.

It was then she stopped screaming for the first time, looked into my eyes and said with all sincerity,

“How do you know He will protect me?”  

I responded confidently, but with sleep deprived eyes, that because of His great love for her He would care for her and help her. It was then that she countered without blinking an eye,

“Then what about a six year old girl who is killed in a car accident? Why didn’t God protect her?”

Gulp. My 2am theology was pretty foggy. I encouraged her that while His ways are not our ways nor his thoughts our thoughts, when he does allow suffering, there is always purpose behind it along with the equally profound promise of His redemption in the end. He will make all the wrong things right in his time.

It didn’t help. So, we resorted to Alexa playing instrumental music to bring calm while I laid beside her until she fell back to sleep.

This happened night after night for several days, all while my husband was away. Each night, she became gripped by fear of snakes that eventually affected her during the day as well.

Each time, she would drill me on questions about God, the Trinity, you name it.

It didn’t make sense that God the Son was at the right-hand of the Father if they were the same person.

She couldn’t have faith in a God whom she could not see.

It did not make logical sense that a God, who was omniscient and omnipresent, would allow suffering.

Can you relate?

She couldn’t connect all the dots in her mind, but in mine the dots were connecting quite clearly. This fear of snakes was nothing short of a spiritual battle waging war in her little heart.

I began to pray fervently with her, over her and with friends for her heart to find rest in the one true God. I explained that not every doubt or question can be answered adequately enough for her doubting heart to believe completely and that is OK. I assured her there’s freedom in this journey to question and wrestle. I know that I still do. But, more than anything, I prayed that instead of looking for answers, that she would encounter this powerful God and personally come to a place where she would know without a doubt that He is real and is alive and working in her life.

By the fifth day, her fears had ceased and life went on as usual with not even a glimpse of terror waking her again. I could take a deep long breath, but I also knew there may be a lifelong journey of wrestling, as it is for most of us.

Whether we know it or not, we deeply desire a real encounter with the living God in order to know He is real, near and working on our behalf.

***

Fast forward, and that Friday came. High school was letting out and as any student on a Friday, you could literally taste the freedom and excitement about the weekend ahead. We pulled up as student after student exited the multiple sets of double doors and made their way down the parking lot, into the cars, and off to their next destination. Time stopped a moment for me as memories flooded my mind. This was my high school. I remember walking out of those same doors as a carefree youth and now I am walking hand in hand with my family of six entering what felt like a time warp. Because I had spent four years in this brick-and-mortar building, I navigated us to the lecture hall that I had taken English and History classes in over 20 years prior.

My very first class in this tiered room was during my freshman year. It was the very year that I said goodbye to my dad as he served nine months in prison for allegedly knowing about a tax evasion scheme at his company. I realized as we entered that while I occupied these very seats, God was doing a work in my life and in my heart. He became most real to me during a time of intense and frightening unknowns, not because my parents gave me the perfect answers for the suffering we were facing, but because they allowed me to participate and dialogue along the journey.

As we passed through the door frame, we were greeted by a grey-haired man who shockingly looked at me and then down at my children and said, “This is pretty heavy for them.” I knew what he was trying to say. They are too young. This isn’t intended for them.

I most assuredly could have pounced on him with sharp words and lion-like claws, but I wrestled down my inner mom defense and responded politely with a smile, “Yes, but believe it or not, my youngest children are the ones that ask the hardest questions. You never know what God wants to do.”

We could feel all of the eyes on us, and I imagined as doubts swirled in every adult mind: Could these children be quiet enough and not distract for the hour plus meeting ahead? Why would these parents bring them to a high school event? Did they just come for the free pizza?

Yes.

Why not.

No.

The speaker started and it was powerful, relevant, and graciously presented. Kids raised hands and questioned and challenged; it was a safe place to wrestle with profound truths about God and whether he exists at all. My kids ate it up. They stared, eyes wide and ears open, and we had hours of wonderful discussion afterwards.

Several months after this presentation, my daughter came to my husband and I saying she wanted to talk about God and baptism. She continues to wrestle from time to time with questions and truly understands why people may doubt there is a God, but she says she now knows He is real.

When I asked what she felt caused this shift, she replied confidently, “When I doubt, I look in the mirror and realize no one else could have created me.”

I fear our society often discounts our youth today. Even as parents we fear the tough questions, don’t we?

Questions about sex and gender, whether God is real and how to keep hope alive in times of intense suffering. We fear them because we know deep down we may not have the right answer or one that will satisfy their curiosity. Well meaning adults sometimes look upon our children as an inconvenience or merely an accessory. Honestly, sometimes I have as well. I am also aware that I may discount the power of a child-like faith, the heights of a child’s curiosity and the brutal honesty that only a child can bring.

In reading I Samuel 16:11–13, I am reminded this mindset is not new.

There had been a king who turned back from following God and so the prophet Samuel was sent to find a new king. He was told to go the house of Jesse and to choose a king from one of his seven sons.  The older and more handsome sons passed before him but the Lord made it clear none of those were to be the new king. When Samuel asked Jesse if these were the only sons he had, Jesse responds nonchalantly that there was one remaining but surely it would not be him. He was the youngest of them all and was out in the pasture keeping sheep, the lowliest of positions. Samuel ordered for him to come and the Lord most assuredly acknowledged this was the boy to be King.

Scripture tells us that upon being anointed King, “the spirit of the Lord rushed upon David from that day forward.”

Of course God would make this mere youth, this unassuming shepherd boy, the future King of his people, and from his family line bring the true King of Kings and Lord of Lords in Jesus.

As a mom, it was an encouraging reminder that I never know what God wants to do with my children at any age and stage. I underestimate the power of the Spirit moving and leading their little hearts along life’s way. I get caught up in my world and in my preferences and lose sight of His plan for their lives.

Let us not look down on our children, limiting them to discussions about video games or their day at school. For sure ask them about those areas. Engage with them on their level and play the games with them, but don’t stop there.

There is an all out war of loneliness, identity, anxiety, depression, or (fill in the blank), raging within the hearts of our youth, and they are desperate to hear honest words of truth and love.

Let’s remind each other that we don’t have to have all of the answers. We never will and that is OK. We do, however, serve an intentional God who fashioned their hearts after his, and we might never know how God will work in our midst for the sake of his story.

Rest today, knowing He is able.

Let’s embrace the hard questions and wrestle through them together.