November 10, 2014
So for the past couple of weeks I have been struggling to breathe.
And I don't mean that as some metaphor for life or as a figure of speech - I mean, waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat gasping for air. Or during the day, when I'm going about my business, suddenly feeling a tight pressure in my chest and before I know it, I'm wheezing like a 90 year old who has just had my oxygen ripped out.
It's a fairly common issue - asthma - and I've had it for several years. But this year has been, by far, the worst in my life. I think prior to this year I could have counted the times I legitimately thought that my asthma might kill me on one hand... and I probably doubled that number in this year alone. And when I say I legitimately thought my asthma might kill me... I mean - I really thought to myself, "I may not make it through this... Dear God. Hold onto me."
The thought of dying doesn't scare me much if I'm completely honest - but there is a physiological terror that goes on when you are faced with your death - especially when you feel like your lungs are going to explode and you are drowning above water. And after a couple of episodes of this I started to get really sick of going through it... and I started to get mad.
I don't think that most of us operate under the illusion that we are perfect. If we are completely honest with ourselves, I think a lot of us would recognize that the problems and issues, the struggles and pains that we encounter throughout our lives are really brought on by choices that we've made. But I think a lot of us feel like we have a basic right to start off at square one - and to not have to suffer from something that is happening to us by no choice we've made - by something we have zero power over. And I don't think that's wrong.
I don't think we serve a God who says "yes, innocent child - you DESERVE to be born into a family that will abuse you" or "yes, person who lived a healthy life, you DESERVE to have cancer and die a painful death" or "you, person who has lived a good life, you DESERVE to have your family stripped away from you in some freak accident," why? "Because life sucks. There is sin in life. You are not perfect - ergo - you deserve to suffer in whatever happens in your life."
But in the midst of fighting for breath, and the frustration of medication upon medication, visits to the ER, and despite all the best that medicine could provide me, feeling like there was this basic violation to the most basic right TO BREATHE - I began to question what kind of God we really do serve.
How do you claim that God is GOOD, when He really doesn't look like He is?
Look - I KNOW the Christian answer to that one - that God is good all the time. That he works ALL things out for good - whether we understand it or not. That He is faithful. That He is just. That we can see that He is good by His past, His present, the future. We can bank on it because it IS who He is.
But what I wanted to know was, could I honestly say that... could I HONESTLY say that - when I was staring into a face - my face - of someone haggard, and worn out, and sick of undergoing a suffering that was brought on by no choice of my own.
And I know - that in the grand scheme of things - struggling with asthma is not as comparable to suffering abuse, or having your entire body begin to rebel in cancer or some horrible disease, or having your entire family stripped away - but it's a suffering that I had no control over. That nothing I did, nothing I chose would change... and I for God's sake, all I wanted was to fucking breathe.
And for weeks, looking at that question - I COULDN'T actually say "Yes. God is Good. And yes... I believe that with all my being." Because I was painfully aware of the fact that no matter how much I cried out to him - even in the throes of terror that I was going to choke to death before we could get to the hospital, in front of my husband who was awakened several nights in a row by my attacks, when I was so worn out I was thinking to myself "I can't take much more of this. I am so frickin' tired right now. Please, can't we just end this if you aren't even going to let me breathe?" And there was no relief to the suffering - no uplifting of the pain. If anything, things got worse and I started to think "Holy shit. Is this my life for now on? Is this what you will leave me in? ... And I'm supposed to believe that you are GOOD?"
Suffering has a way of making you aware of other people's suffering, if not individually, then at least theoretically. And I started to see, and REALLY understand, why people hate the Christian response to suffering.
You look a child who is suffering from child abuse and sex abuse and wants nothing but to be fed, held, and loved and tell him or her that God is good.
You look a person who is racked with pain, from head to toe, who is groaning because no amount of morphine dumped into their system will eradicate the fact that their body is rejecting life - and tell him or her that God is good.
You look at someone like me, who is fighting for breath, just trying to live life - and tell me that God is good.
And if they are anything like me, they will look at you and say: "How. How is He good. Show me. Because I really don't see it right now. What good does His goodness do if it has nothing to do with me?"
It made me realize that perhaps this is why so many in the Christian church have turned away from paying attention to social justice issues. Why, especially in "mainstream" American Christianity we only kind-of, sort-of address/acknowledge/actively engage people who are suffering in poverty, disease, abuse... It's a lot easier to claim that your God is good and righteous when a lot of your problems are driven by your own choices and mistakes, and otherwise things are going well for you. It's a lot harder to claim that God is good when you're staring into the face of a victim who truly did nothing to deserve their suffering... and if we're honest, that kind-of suffering is everywhere we look - not just third world countries removed from us.
I also know the Christian answer to that. Like I said, most of us also don't believe that we serve a God who believes that we DESERVE to suffer - but that we suffer by the fact that we live in a fallen world. And He is as actively against needless suffering as we ought to be... It's just that it's hard to hold onto the belief that He is good when you are confronted by problems that only He could fix everyday and wonder, why aren't they getting any better?
It isn't an easy question. There are no easy answers.
It's been at least three weeks where I've been angry, really angry, with God. And asking Him this same question. And you might wonder, why not just walk away?
I know I did.
Why not just walk away from believing in a God at all? Why not just say, "Look, if this is the kind of God you are, maybe I'd rather take my chances with the lot of humans who says that if you exist, then we could do a hell of a better job than you are. And maybe we would - if we'd stop hoping that you would show up and fix everything... maybe we'd actually try harder if people STOPPED believing that you were there - because then we'd realize that fixing these things really isn't going to happen if we don't."
And I thought about it... and I tried.
And the thing is, all I can honestly say is I can't. I know in my bones that He's there - even when I'm trying to reject everything about Him. And even when I couldn't claim that He was good, couldn't say that I believed it - a part of me still hoped that He was... was mad because I couldn't see the evidence of it - was angered enough to throw that down in front of Him and say, "WHERE ARE YOU? WHY DON'T YOU CARE? You SAID You were good, well, SHOW ME, damnit! Because I don't see it. I don't see it at all."
And there's other times in my life that I see the goodness of God - in the beauty of His creation, in the blessings of life, but there's times looking out at the suffering that I say, it doesn't equal out. It doesn't balance.
And it doesn't. And I don't think He thinks it does either.
... But at the end of my rope, when I wanted to walk away, maybe I'm just that brainwashed... maybe I am just that far gone... I couldn't.
I kept thinking of what Peter said when Christ asked him whether he and the other disciples were going to leave after so many walked away from his really insane and confusing teaching on eating his flesh and drinking his blood (John 6:52-69) And Peter answers:
"Lord, to whom else shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and come to know, that you are the Holy One of God."
... In case you were wondering... that is not a joyful triumphant statement... at least, it isn't for me.
Faced with the suffering of this world... faced with my own suffering... I felt like Christ asked me, "Do you want to go away as well?"
And I wanted to say, "Yes, actually, I'm pretty done with this. I'm pretty done with believing that You are good when you let us suffer, when you allow us to suffer, when you do nothing to stop things that only you in your power could stop, and yet claim that you are good. I'm ready to walk away now."
... And yet I found myself returning time and time again to saying,
"But to whom else shall I go?"
Here I am... You've got me. Hook, line, and sinker. I've jumped in... I'm not sure how to jump back out. I hope you're happy.
Maybe if you just TRIED harder, Whitney. Maybe if you would just reject Him.
He kind-of deserves it, don't you think?
I thought so... sometimes I still do.
But the fact is that when I'm in the midst of that terrifying struggle for my life and my breath - and I'm reaching out - it's not just my husband's hand that I'm looking to hold to be there with me - but it's His. And I want and need His presence in the midst of the suffering. Because He is right there in the midst of it with me - even when I'm pleading with Him "You could lift this... You COULD LIFT THIS... please... don't just suffer with me, take it away."
And He holds me there, in the fire, with Him and says, "It's okay. I promise it will be okay - not because everything will turn out perfectly fine with you in the end, but because I am here. I will not let you go... even in the darkest and most desperate of places, even there I will always be there with you. I will always bring you home."
I believe that in my soul - even when I don't believe it with any other part of me.
And I think to myself... it makes it possible to honestly look someone who is suffering and asking me, "Is God good? Is he REALLY good? Because I don't see it. I DON'T SEE IT - and I DON'T BELIEVE IT."
And for me to say, "I know. I know... let me hold you. Let me believe it for you right now."
I have no easy answer for why God allows suffering in the world. There's a lot of "good" answers - that struggling makes us stronger (and it does, I have seen it, I have experienced it), that suffering deepens our character, that suffering helps us to understand Christ's love for us, that suffering is a part of the brokenness of this world, that it isn't meant forever, that it will not be a part of eternity...
... but to be honest... when you're asking that question of whether God is good when you are suffering, none of that really matters... because what you want to know is what good does it do you if you can't see it right then... why does any of that matter if you can't believe it is true right now.
All I know is that, I have no where else to go... I have come to believe and know in my bones - in a place that I don't know how to reject it - that Christ is the Holy One. That He is Good. That I have no where else to go for the words of eternal life, resurrection, redemption, redress of all wrong and suffering in this world.
And sometimes I want with all my being to be able to walk away from that because it doesn't look like how I want it to look. It doesn't feel like how I want it to feel. Because He doesn't fix things the way I think He should. Because shit happens that I hate and believe is wrong. Because there's a lot of really fucked up things in this world that shouldn't be... and He could fix it... but He hasn't yet... and I don't know why the hell not... And perhaps even more so because believing in Him doesn't change the fact that He wants US to start making the changes that need to happen to set this world right... and it's a challenge that I don't feel at all up to par for, and a challenge that makes me look at Him and say, "THEN WHAT GOOD IS BELIEVING IN YOU ANYWAY?!"
But still... "Where else should we go?"
Is it right that in the midst of my anger and suffering, I can't let go? I can't walk away? Isn't that in and of itself disturbing, and controlling, and kind-of sadistic?
I have no good answers for that either. All I know is that is where I am... where He brought me... I have no where else to go.
And as weird as it may sound, I both hate and am glad that that is true.
I'm not sure why I'm writing this to anyone. It has no good answers in it... but in case you were suffering and angry about it, I hope this comes to you as though I were slipping my hand into yours. I don't have any explanations. I don't have any answers. I only have the ability to be present and to love you... maybe even hope for you if you are where you can't, and even though it doesn't fix things, not in the slightest, it is still something we all need.
And in case I left any of you all worrying... I am getting the asthma back under control. I'm on more medication right now than I care to be, but it's not as bad as it could be... and it's at least been a couple of days since I thought "Oh my God, I am going to die."
And to be honest, today is the start of the first day since I've woken up not really angry at God... and I'm okay with that. Okay that today is the first... and okay with the fact that I was really angry... and glad for all the above.
