God welcomes your questions

If you grew up anything like me you might have learned that there is a right way to come to God. You might have learned that we must approach him with reverence, that we must say the right things first, the right things next, and the right things after that. You might have been taught with words or implications that if you don’t get it right, don’t bother coming to God- He won't hear you if you don’t do things in the right order.

God led my family and I on a bit of a pilgrimage a few years ago. We picked up our family and moved back to Pennsylvania excited about being near family and a new job and business Steve was starting. But as months went on that business didn’t take off, our savings dwindled, every month was full of anxiety about how the bills were going to be paid. We eventually went through every penny we had, Steve took on odd jobs to try to make ends meet, worked on a farm seasonally, tried to sell insurance. I took on as much work as I could. We applied for state aid and we qualified for food stamps. I learned what kind of looks you get at the grocery store when you pay with food stamps. We looked for food pantries in our area. God never let us go hungry, but I did fear it. He kept us going with little bits of encouragement at a time. It felt like we couldn’t make any friends because we were just trying to survive. I would go for walks to try to process things – my health was suffering because of all the stress- but I would still try to walk even if it was just really slow. I talked to God about a lot of things on those walks, I begged him to change our situation, I begged him for answers, I begged him for help. I got really honest. I had no energy to try to come to God in the perfect way. All I could do was cry out.

And as I let myself ask questions I found God to be nearer, kinder, more compassionate, more accessible, than I ever had before.

Over the last several years, God has taken me on a journey, a journey of dropping the pretense, a journey of asking the hard questions and not running away from them, a journey of crying out all that I’m thinking and feeling to God, a journey of admitting I have so few answers and so very many questions. A journey of unraveling my life, my faith, the way I think about things, the questions I let myself ask.

I think we often live lives running away from our questions. Or if we do take the time to acknowledge them, we only utter them to ourselves, never out loud, not to God, we could be struck dead for having these kinds of blasphemous thoughts.

But then I think of a mom and her toddler. Toddlers are notorious for questions- why does that make that noise? What happens if I pull the dogs tail? Where are we going? Are we there yet? Why does this go here? Questions are one of the primary ways a child can learn about their world. They see things that don’t make sense and so they need loving guidance, they need reassurance, sometimes they just need a quick hug and kiss. I think of our relationship with God just like that of a mom and her toddler. Although God doesn’t roll his eyes the way moms do. But He welcomes our questions, He welcomes our curiosity. He welcomes our whys, He welcomes our struggle. He knows we don’t have all the answers- how could we? We haven’t been here since the foundation of the earth. But he welcomes the dialogue with us and He is delighted to be the one we run to.

I believe we rob ourselves of some incredible conversations with God just because were afraid of coming to Him the wrong way. I believe that there is no wrong way to come to Him- we can come crying, we can come angry, we can come perplexed, we can come curious, we can come jubilant, we can come afraid, we can come wounded, we can come with 1,000 cares or with just one praise. The point is that we come and let Him steady us with his warm, strong embrace.

When God led us through our wandering years a lot of my questions were so raw-why are you letting this happen? Where are you? Have you forgotten us? Do you hear us? Do you even care? When will you provide relief? It seemed like so many things had gone wrong I was afraid of what might happen next. But God showed up – like God always does- sometimes in the form of a phone call from a friend saying they were praying for us, sometimes in the form of an unexpected check. Once I was so distraught and crying and went out for a walk and found a ten dollar bill lying on the ground, Gods reminder to me that He can provide anything in any way He chooses.

God doesn’t need to be protected from the questions in your heart. You might be fragile and your situation might be fragile, but God is not fragile. He doesn't need us to prop Him up with our carefulness and our perfection. He doesn’t need to be protected from the darkness, from the struggle, from the rawness. He’s strong enough to hold all these things and to hold you, too. God wants us to seek Him, He wants us to be honest about the things that are troubling us. He is our safe place to run to.

I don’t know what all your questions are- I don’t know when or if they will be answered- but I do know He welcomes your questions. I do know that a growing faith is a faith with questions. He welcomes your dialogue, He welcomes your tirade.

When I pour out my questions to Him I know He takes them and carries them closely- He doesn’t belittle them, He doesn’t say I can’t believe you don’t understand this already, He doesn’t pat my head and offer trite clichés. He holds my questions close to His heart – and as I ask Him all the things, He draws me closer and closer to the answer – Himself.