WHEN THEY QUESTION GOD’S RIGHT TO BE GOD
Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.
—OSWALD CHAMBERS
It was a spectacular sight. Purple balloons and gold streamers, homemade signs, and banners draped entire neighborhoods—on trees, mailboxes, sign posts, and yards—throughout the entire city of Birmingham. But what made this so amazing wasn’t just that these were my beloved LSU Tigers’ team colors; it was the very personal catalyst behind this massive decorating spree.
Sid Ortis was a sixteen-year-old who loved his family, his God, and, because his parents were from God’s Country, also known as Louisiana, his LSU Tigers. When Sid was diagnosed with bone cancer, he fought a courageous battle through numerous surgeries and chemotherapy treatments. Word spread quickly of his positive, faith-filled spirit.
To show support, neighbors and people throughout the city of Birmingham blanketed every street and neighborhood with LSU’s colors. Keep in mind, Alabama is usually draped in other colors, like crimson and white or blue and orange, especially during football season. We are serious about football here in Alabama, so this change in color scheme was rather a big deal.
Even LSU’s head football coach, Les Miles, heard about Sid’s battle and reached out to the young man, calling to chat and pray and inviting him to be on the field for their upcoming game against Auburn, a day that Sid later described as “the best day ever!”
When Sid’s body lost its battle against cancer, we were saddened for his family and for the amazing young man we had lost in our community. Yet we knew that his spirit lived on and that somehow, beyond the limitations of our understanding, God knew what he was doing. We would miss Sid terribly but took comfort in his passionate heart and fighting spirit.
I remember Sid’s mother, Lynn, saying that she believed God was sparing Sid from something else that would have come along later in life had he lived. She said Sid was the only one of her children she worried would go wild and get into trouble. I shared a verse with her, one I also read at Sid’s funeral: “Good people pass away; the godly often die before their time. . . . No one seems to understand that God is protecting them from the evil to come” (Isa. 57:1 NLT).
God is still God even when we don’t understand his ways.
So often nonbelievers in our culture refuse to believe in a God who would allow someone like Sid to suffer with cancer and die so young. They can’t reconcile that a good God would allow the atrocities that they often see in our world today: natural disasters and calamitous events, birth defects and cancer, torture and genocide. But this is why our response, as Christians, to these events matters so much.
We may struggle with some of the same questions, doubts, and concerns in the face of such tragedies. But this is when we must exercise our faith to the fullest. This is when we must choose to worship God and to trust in his goodness, sovereignty, and power. This is when we remind the world around us that we are not God. And even if he’s not being God the way we think he should, it doesn’t matter. He’s still God. We are the creation, not the Creator. God is still God even when we don’t understand his ways.
Begging the Question
Being in the ministry means I pray for a lot of people who need a miracle from God—and it also means I’ve conducted a lot of funerals for many of those same people. While I never have a hard time trusting God’s timing in taking them home—after all, heaven is better than Alabama—like most people I still wonder why God doesn’t heal more sick people—especially ones like Sid who clearly had such a positive impact on those around him.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve seen God provide miraculous cures for late-stage cancer and give babies to couples struggling with infertility. I’ve seen people on the brink of death bounce back to full health without their doctors being able to explain it. God clearly grants miracles every day. But why doesn’t he do it more? Why do some people get healed while others suffer and die? No matter how many miracles you see, these questions beg to be asked. It’s just human nature.
But some things never make sense.
As Christians, we often succumb to playing the same mental games others do when a crisis happens or tragedy strikes. We ask, Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t you have prevented this, Lord? Then we allow our doubts, fears, and uncertainties to bounce around our minds like pinballs, cycling around and around without any answers or resolutions. But the book of Daniel—along with Job, Ezekiel, Ecclesiastes, Lamentations, and other passages in Scripture—reminds us again and again that our place is not to demand answers from God or to try and analyze life’s losses like a math problem.
When the unimaginable happens, we have to stop thinking, analyzing, and problem solving and simply trust God. It’s the same kind of trust we learned as children when we questioned our parents about why we had to get a shot, take medicine, or avoid sharp objects. At the time we couldn’t understand—and may not have had the mental development to understand—why we had to endure something so painful or forgo something that looked appealing. We had to trust that what motivated our parents’ decisions was our health, safety, and well-being. In the same way, we must trust our heavenly Father even when unbearably painful events come our way.
We are never to weigh our thoughts, logic, and rationalization against his. When we do, we’re shifting the focus of our worship from God to ourselves. True worship happens when you don’t understand and choose to trust God anyway, acknowledging his goodness, power, and sovereignty even amid situations that defy rational human explanation. We have to trust that God didn’t get it wrong even when we can’t figure it out.
We don’t have to understand God’s ways—which I’m so grateful for because, in this life, we won’t. We simply can’t. But we can choose to love him, worship him, and serve him no matter what happens. No matter whether others can’t fathom why we continue worshipping a God who doesn’t make sense to them.
True worship happens when you don’t understand and choose to trust God anyway.
We don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing Daniel wondered why God allowed his people to be captured and enslaved by brutal pagans like the Babylonians. Back at the beginning of Daniel’s story, you’ll recall how this whole ordeal started:
In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it. And the Lord delivered Jehoiakim king of Judah into his hand, along with some of the articles from the temple of God. These he carried off to the temple of his god in Babylonia and put in the treasure house of his god. (Dan. 1:1–2, emphasis mine)
Perhaps as events unfolded, Daniel wondered why his captor’s culture had to test his faith at every turn. Why did his three friends have to be thrown into a red-hot furnace? Why did he have to come face-to-face with a den of ravenous lions?
While Daniel wasn’t immune to such questions, his bedrock faith in God clearly trumped any doubts he might have had. I’m convinced this kind of faith was one of the main reasons he was so successful in the face of a pagan culture. Simply put, he knew God. He knew who God was and clearly knew the Word of God and the Lord’s promises of deliverance. But where did this kind of trust come from? How did Daniel develop this superstrong faith that empowered him to stare down any test, trial, or temptation the Babylonians threw at him?
And how can we have this same kind of faith today?
The Faith of Job
Before we enter the lions’ den with Daniel, I want to explore the challenges another man of great faith experienced. Job’s name has become synonymous with patience and long-suffering, but clearly his trust in God was stretched to the breaking point. Everything Job endured seemed beyond anything he could have imagined, predicted, or expected—especially in light of who he knew God to be.
So when nothing around him made sense, how did Job continue to walk by faith? Why did he refuse to give up on God despite losing everyone he loved and everything he had, including his health? Let’s dig in to his story for clues about the source of Job’s remarkable faith.
In the land of Uz there lived a man whose name was Job. This man was blameless and upright; he feared God and shunned evil. He had seven sons and three daughters, and he owned seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen and five hundred donkeys, and had a large number of servants. He was the greatest man among all the people of the East. (Job 1:1–3)
Right out of the gate, we’re told Job was a good man. He’s described as “blameless and upright,” a man who worshipped God and avoided evil. It’s also hard to miss that Job was not only a good guy, but he was one rich dude. It’s not always easy to find someone who has it all, literally, but Job seemed to have been that balanced person at the beginning of our story. But having so much also meant that Job had more to lose. Let’s see how his life first started to unravel:
One day when Job’s sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, a messenger came to Job and said, “The oxen were plowing and the donkeys were grazing nearby, and the Sabeans attacked and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The fire of God fell from the heavens and burned up the sheep and the servants, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, “The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
While he was still speaking, yet another messenger came and said, “Your sons and daughters were feasting and drinking wine at the oldest brother’s house, when suddenly a mighty wind swept in from the desert and struck the four corners of the house. It collapsed on them and they are dead, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!”
At this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head. Then he fell to the ground in worship and said:
“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked I will depart.
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away;
may the name of the LORD be praised.”
In all this, Job did not sin by charging God with wrongdoing.
(Job 1:13–22)
Can you imagine how devastating it must have been for Job to receive bad news, only to have it overshadowed by worse and then even worse news? Then he faced about the worst news a father can receive: the death of all his children at once. Still, in the midst of losing his wealth and his children, Job chose to worship. He did not blame God and instead praised him.
Job’s wife, on the other hand, responded the way so many people in our culture respond to terrible events—with intense anger toward God. But the Christian response must be closer to Job’s than his wife’s. Even when she told him to “curse God and die” (Job 2:9), Job refused to abandon his faith despite the overwhelmingly painful suffering he faced.
Even when we trust God we still must wrestle with heartache, with loss, with disappointment, and with the doubts that may accompany such painful emotions.
But Job wasn’t perfect. Though he never blamed God, later on Job did question God—with a little help from his friends—as we discover throughout the next thirty-five chapters. I find Job’s doubts reassuring because even when we trust God we still must wrestle with heartache, with loss, with disappointment, and with the doubts that may accompany such painful emotions. But we would do well to keep in mind what happened when Job questioned God.
After Job finally voiced all his doubts, God answered him out of a thunderous storm:
Then the LORD spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:
“Who is this that obscures my plans
with words without knowledge?
Brace yourself like a man;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me.
Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?
Tell me, if you understand.
Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know!”
(Job 38:1–5)
God had had enough of the human wisdom from Job and those around him. Basically, God said, “You want answers? Then let me ask you a question first.”
Have you comprehended the vast expanses of the earth?
Tell me, if you know all this.
What is the way to the abode of light?
And where does darkness reside?
Can you take them to their places?
Do you know the paths to their dwellings?
Surely you know, for you were already born!
You have lived so many years!
(Job 38:18–21)
Like a frustrated parent, God made his point. Job immediately got it and reached a conclusion we all need to reach just as much: “Then Job answered the LORD: ‘I am unworthy—how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth’” (Job 40:3–4). Job realized he could not come close to comparing himself worthy of knowing and understanding God’s ways.
Omni-Beliefs
Job is one of the characters in the Bible most often held up as a shining example of how to remain faithful under pressure. As such, when we look at his story, we can often come away feeling far from his level of trust and belief in God. It’s easy to become discouraged and dismiss his example as beyond our reach, but if we look a little closer at the foundation of the faith that enabled his response, we’ll see that it’s not quite as impossible as it first seems.
Job’s response was built on three components. Together, these omni-beliefs illustrate the kind of humble faith we need if we are to stay firmly rooted in the face of the world’s reasoning that we should leave God behind when life’s trials feel unbearable. Let’s consider each one and how it applies to our lives.
A belief that God is all-powerful. The theological term for God’s all-powerfulness is omnipotence, and it conveys more than sheer strength—it’s the ultimate power that is the source of all other power we see in our world. It’s the belief that nothing is too difficult for God. Job said, “I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted” (Job 42:2).
When we’re faced with a hard situation, one of the best ways to respond is to believe God can make a way where we can’t see one. This kind of revelation will change our lives as we exercise our faith, trusting and believing that despite how irrational, illogical, or impossible the situation seems, God is bigger and more powerful.
We see this kind of sold-out, whole-hearted faith in the life of Joseph. Betrayed by his brothers, sold into slavery in Egypt, falsely accused, and imprisoned, Joseph had every reason to abandon his faith because God wasn’t intervening and rescuing him. Instead, Joseph remained faithful and continued to worship God and exercise his faith in ways that, like Daniel’s, got noticed by those around him. After Pharaoh made Joseph second in command, after Joseph saved thousands—perhaps millions—of lives by trusting God and stockpiling food for the coming famine, after he confronted his brothers, whom he also saved, Joseph could say to them: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives” (Gen. 50:20).
My faith, probably like yours, has been tested as well. At times in my life, someone looking in from the outside might have said it would make more sense to abandon the trust I had in God, whose guiding hand seemed confusing at best or invisible at worst. When, looking through human eyes, it might have seemed smarter to take things into my own hands rather than continue to believe in and follow God. But the way I see it, I’d rather have hope in what an all-powerful God can do than certainty in what I am limited to do.
A belief that God is all-knowing. Omniscient is the theological term for “all-knowing,” and it simply means God is smarter and wiser than we have the ability to comprehend or imagine. Job recognized the vast difference between himself and God: “You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” (Job 42:3). His observation about God’s ways being “too wonderful for me to know” captures the essence of faith: accepting what you don’t understand.
I’d rather have hope in what an all-powerful God can do than certainty in what I am limited to do.
When my dad died two years after his diagnosis, I couldn’t understand why God chose to bring him home to heaven for his perfect healing rather than heal him here on earth so I could spend more time with him. But I’ve got to believe God is all-knowing and beyond my right to question. I have to accept the limitations of my knowledge and ability to understand God’s ways. Then I can rest in the confidence of his wisdom, timing, and purpose. It’s as God said: “This plan of mine is not what you would work out, neither are my thoughts the same as yours! For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than yours, and my thoughts than yours” (Isa. 55:8–9 TLB).
God knows things we don’t know; we simply have to trust him. We want a better now, but God offers a better place for the rest of our lives. Remember: God knows the end of your story. He is at work right now in ways you can’t see—all for your ultimate good and his glory. Can you dare to believe this and trust him with whatever is weighing on you right now at this moment?
A belief that God is ever-present. Theologians might say “omnipresent.” This means God transcends the limits of time and space as we know it. He can be present with each one of us at any time, no matter where we are; all we must do is draw near and choose to meet him. Job said, “My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you” (Job 42:5). So many of us know God from a distance, but if we get close—really up close and personal—then we’ll know him and his heart and come to truly trust him.
I saw this when Sid Ortis’s family, and Sid himself, pressed in closer to God rather than pulling away during his excruciating illness. Though the world would have said this amount of pain and unexplained hardship should make them think twice about God’s presence and goodness, Sid and his family held tighter to the truth of who God was. They discovered the comfort and peace of God being with them at all times and in all places. They learned personally that “those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you” (Ps. 9:10).
Job also knew this kind of closeness with God and clung to him even as everything in his life fell apart. In the end of Job’s story, he got back all he lost—in fact, he was given twice as much. This didn’t compensate for losing his loved ones or for going through such a painful season of grieving. But Job trusted the Lord whether times were good or times were bad, whether he had a lot or a little, whether he felt happy or felt sad. This is the kind of faith required if we are to stand up against the cultural forces our Enemy uses to ensnare us. This is the kind of faith we see in Daniel. No matter what he faced, he never argued or complained about how bad things were going. He simply trusted God and kept doing what he knew to do: pray, worship, obey.
Limits and Longings
After studying the examples of people like Job and Daniel, I’m convinced real worship ultimately boils down to trust. It’s the belief that God gets to be God and we don’t. In fact, we don’t even have the right to question God and his ways, including his Word. If we only believe what we like in the Bible but don’t believe what we don’t like, then it’s not the Bible that we trust but ourselves.
Real worship ultimately boils down to trust.
Clearly choosing what we believe and, thus, who we trust, is at the heart of standing strong in the face of an ungodly culture. If we don’t recognize the distinction between our role as human beings—creations of God who are made in his image—and the character and power of God, then eventually our doubts may erode our faith. Cultural forces will encourage us to abandon our beliefs about God and his Word and instead embrace humanism—the belief that we control our own lives.
We must recognize our limits as human beings—and our longings. The two go hand in hand. When we experience God’s love and acceptance, when we worship him and walk with him and follow him, then it becomes easier to surrender our attempts to control life. Knowing and worshipping God fulfills us and organically grows our trust with deeper roots—even when it’s incredibly painful, illogical, and seemingly unbearable.
We see this truth in evidence at the end of Jesus’ time on earth. After dining with his disciples for the last time before his death, Jesus—who clearly knew what he was about to face—prayed to his Father nonetheless.
Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, “Pray that you will not fall into temptation.” He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. (Luke 22:39–44)
Here is Jesus, God’s only Son, asking his Father to take away the cup that waited before him, the one that included a bitter betrayal by one of his closest followers, a humiliating arrest on trumped-up charges, a torturous beating, and the most painful death possible. No one would want to go through all that—apparently, not even Christ! Nonetheless, after making his request known, he prayed that God’s will would be done, not his own. Jesus yielded his own ability to control events—of course, Jesus was not only man but also God—and surrendered his will to his Father’s. He trusted God with all that he was about to face, knowing he wished to avoid it but accepting it for the sake of all people.
And notice what Jesus told his disciples to pray while he was praying a few feet away from them: “Pray that you will not fall into temptation” (Luke 22:40). Christ knew that his followers would be tempted to abandon their faith, to give up hope, and, in Peter’s case, to deny even knowing Jesus. Our Savior knew that when people cannot understand why God allows certain events, they’re also tempted to lose faith. The human mind tries to make a rational narrative for why God allows suffering, disease, violence, crime, and so many other terrible forces to operate in our world. But we know God gave us a choice: the free will to decide for ourselves whether we will worship and obey him—or something, or someone, else.
Even if you can’t understand what God is doing, will you still choose to trust him? When life doesn’t make sense—and your view of what God’s doing or not doing doesn’t make sense either—you must be deliberate about where you will focus your worship.
Because there will always be someone or something trying to derail your faith. Someone or something competing for your worship.
What’s competing for your worship right now? What’s causing you to shift from bowing before God to worshipping an idol? Maybe it’s a painful event or devastating loss that causes you to question God’s goodness, power, and sovereignty. Perhaps because you can’t understand certain situations and challenging relationships in your life, you’re tempted to back away from God and pour yourself into something else.
The Enemy doesn’t come dressed in a red jumpsuit, wearing little horns. He comes dressed in everything we think we want.
Maybe your career is getting your worship—devotion to working hard, impressing others, and getting a promotion. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your career and being committed to excellence. But if it’s what you prize above all else—because that’s how you feel valued and affirmed—then it’s an idol.
Maybe sports take up too much of your time. Attending a football game, your kid’s soccer match, or any such event you feel passionately about can seem like a religious experience. There’s focus, devotion, music, celebration, even lament for the losing team’s fans. But when taken to an extreme, sports can become a poor substitute for knowing the living God.
Nothing will satisfy us like worshipping God. That’s why the Devil works so hard to redirect our worship to anything else. And in the process he takes the credit and enjoys being worshipped as well. The Enemy doesn’t come dressed in a red jumpsuit, wearing little horns. He comes dressed in everything we think we want.
So we must be careful what we choose.
We always become what we worship.
If you don’t like who you’re becoming, then take an inventory of what you store in your heart. If you don’t like what you find, then simply ask God to forgive you and restore his place on the throne of your heart.
If you haven’t surrendered yourself to Jesus and bowed your heart in worship, or if you’ve allowed something else to take his place, then I must ask you these questions: Isn’t it time? Isn’t now the time to fulfill that longing in the deepest part of your being and encounter the God who made you, knows you, and loves you? Isn’t it about time to bow down to Jesus?
When I gave my heart to Christ, I didn’t know what to pray. I didn’t have the words. Someone helped me say what I wanted to say, like a preacher does at a wedding when the bride and groom recite their vows after him. It’s really not difficult at all. The Bible tells us, if we want to be saved, we have to declare Jesus as our Lord with our mouths—then believe in our hearts that he is God. Then we are saved (Rom. 10:9–10).
We always become what we worship.
Now is the time to stop reading this book and take a moment to pray. Here’s a little prayer in case you need help with the words. Feel free to make them your own. And most important, mean what you pray.
Dear God, I need you. I need a real relationship with you. Today I open my life to knowing you. Forgive me for living my life my way. Today I invite Jesus to be the Lord of my life. Jesus, I want to know you. I put my trust in you, for the things I understand and for the things I don’t understand. Today I declare that you are all-powerful, all-knowing, and always present. You are my God. In your name I pray, amen.