On Asking, "Why?"

The past week, I've been living with my cell phone permanently attached to my body.

You see, 400 miles away, my grandmother, my precious, 91-year old grandmother, is dying a slow, long, drawn-out, painful death.

And those around her ask, "Why?"

This weekend, a family was driving home from a talent audition.  A teenager ran a stop sign and plowed into their van, killing the mom and her two sons.  The teenager had minor injuries.

And those around them ask, "Why?"

There are atrocities unspeakable in every corner of the world. . . . wars and unrest and famine and abuse and slavery. . . . .

And the world asks, "Why?"

Our friends had a beautiful, healthy baby boy last week.
A missionary we know was healed from her severe neck pain after prayer.
Our family has been provided for - miraculously - over and over again.
I woke up this morning, opened my eyes, and found my heart beating and my lungs inhaling and my brain functioning.

I have yet to hear a "Why?"

Only a "Thank You!". . . and sadly, sometimes not even that.

Now it's my turn to ask, "Why?"

Why do I question the bad, and not the good?
What makes me think I deserve only the good portion, never the bad?

In the words of Job,

 Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?

He is the Creator, I am the creation.  I cannot - I dare not - understand His thoughts and His purposes.

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!  How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! (Romans 11:33)

May I receive from His hand blessing and trial, and give Him praise and honor all my days.