It's a difficult question. Probably one of the hardest to answer. Why does God allow pain and suffering? The Curiosity Collective brings together thought leaders, authors, philosophers and theologians to explore this difficult question.
My son has had severe epilepsy since he was born. For 15 years, he'd have 10 to 20 epileptic seizures every day, and, uh, our whole life was basically revolved around his disability, and yet I would pray for other friends who had sick children, and it seemed like their kids got better, um, but my son didn't.
The one moment that redefined this question for me was probably in 2004 with the tsunami that happened in Asia, and just the sheer devastation of a natural disaster just brought me to my knees and where I was at the television saying, "God, seriously, why?"
The question, "How can God allow these bad things to happen?" I think is a, it's a reality. It's a hard, hard question, in fact maybe the hardest question.
God allows humankind to make their own choices, and ultimately they can lead to some magnificent things. I mean, you have a look at the extraordinary things— extraordinary things that human beings have been able to accomplish, uh, in the freedom and autonomy that God has given us. But the downside or the dark side of this autonomy or this freedom is that we can just create the most vile and contemptible and cruel and vicious outcomes of being human.
A lot of what we see in the world— in my opinion, of what I've experienced— is, you know, you have generations of men, you know, women, father, mother, children. When they make the choice not to love— love God, love each other— you play that out, and um, there, there's a lot of pain that comes with that.
The suffering that comes from nature, or, or earthquakes, or hurricanes, or things like that, I, I find harder to explain, and, uh, I guess you got to live with the mystery of it. Um... I think the Christian answer's the best one, but when you go out East into the Eastern religions, it doesn't make any sense of suffering at all. Uh, it's kind of like, "Suck it up." It doesn't make— it doesn't attempt to try and make sense of it or derive meaning. So the Buddhist answer, for instance— and I have great respect for Buddhism— the Buddhist answer says, "it's not real." Um... suffering has no reality. Well, I, you know, I, I think you tell that to a suffering person, and I don't think it makes sense to them. The Christian answer actually doesn't answer everything, um, particularly when you're suffering, um, but it is the best one around, uh, without a doubt.
About five years ago, I was pregnant, and I heard the words that no mother ever wants to hear: Your child is not going to live. Um... On April 7, 2008, I delivered a little girl who was alive when she was born. Her name was Audrey Caroline, and she lived for 2 1/2 hours. We loved her a lifetime's worth that short amount of time. Watched her get her first bath and little haircut. But later that night when everyone was gone, and it was just my husband and I alone with her, as time went on, we knew that we were going to have to call a nurse to come in and take her. Um... I had to hand my daughter to someone and watch her be taken away from me, knowing that I wouldn't see her again this side of Heaven. And as I lay in that hospital bed, and everything in me wanted to just bang on all the buttons and tell them to bring her back, I really called out to God in a way I never had before, and I just said, "I can't do this, and I need you to just be here right now. I just need you to hold me." He did. He did. I will tell you that, in that moment, I saw, um, a side of God that I've never experienced and I've never forgotten since then. Just His faithfulness to one girl in a hospital room who was devastated. And I just really felt that He was there. Sorry.
When I talk to people about the stuff they've gone through, I— to be honest, the for me, the best answer and the, the most appropriate response is— as a Christian, as a believer— is to cry too. To hold the hand and to weep too, and then to introduce them to someone who helps pull you out of a pit, and not in some weird, messed up, quick-fix kind of a way. I get really annoyed when we Christians propose it as an answer as, like, the quick, in a box, fix that changes everything. Um... But there's a, there's a phrase, I— it's in one of the books of the Bible— which talks about— I... and it's this, it says, "I know my Redeemer lives." And, um, and that part of the Bible has always won me, because it talks about this person who buys back all that's been lost, um, through your own helplessness, um, through violence, through your own foolishness. And, um, that's who I met: someone who, who helped me over, over years and blood, sweat, and tears, um, bring back that— what was lost.