"Oh, that marvel of conception as you stirred together
semen and ovum-
What a miracle of skin and bone,muscle and brain!
You gave me life itself, and incredible love.
You watched and guarded every breath I took.
But you never told me about this part."
Job 10:10-13 Message translation
I love the way that Job lets rip. He really just says it how it is right to God's face. His friends try to tell him 'the answers' but Job just says, "I don't know about any answers, I just know that this feels like crap, I don't like it, and God needs to know that."
I've just spent the last little while crying at God, telling him that the way he does things is stupid and that it would have been better if he'd never thought of us. I didn't use any of the "And Lord, Ijusreallywannapray" jargon or cliches and even found myself letting out a swear word. I know that God is OK with this, or else he wouldn't have let Job get in the Bible. I asked him all the 'whys' that have ever been in my head. I knew that there weren't going to be any answers, but also that it was good to ask.
Reading Job again reminded me that there is no answer to suffering. I especially want there to be an answer when my friends are suffering, because I want to be able to give it to them as a balm. I want to fix it and take it away. But the truth is, at the end of the day there is not any REASON for it. Kath will perennially be asking the same questions on her blog and talking about heaven. When she and I get together, there will always be some point in the day when we will ask each other the big questions, knowing that niether of us know the answer, but that it's good to ask.
God will always listen to me when I have these cyclical rants. He'll not drop The Answers down on a golden scroll carried by fat, ugly cherub babies (who ever decided that angels looked so repulsive?) and tell me to go forth and share it. But I'm assured that his silence does not mean indifference. He's not coldly saying "At the end of the day Stephanie, I'm God and you're not and that's that." Although that is true (and I'm grateful for it!). He also reminds me that he hasn't gone anywhere, he hasn't forgotten me, he's not gone deaf or blind, and he's not run out of COMPASSION. That's the thing, he actually gives a damn. So though I hate it, it's sort of OK that he doesn't tell me why, because I know that HE knows why, and so he must know why I can't know why. If you see what I mean?
What I'm trying to say is, that it's good to realise that no-one knows the answers, because if we did, we'd know that we'd got it wrong, because everything still sucks. But that still, it's good to ask.