Where was God growing up?

Where was God when everything was a mess?

If I’m being honest, I ask this question a lot. You would think that God would have shown up in such a God-centered bunch like the missionary community. You would think He would have been a little more present in the lives of a bunch of kids whose parents were specifically called for a higher-intensity project like the mission field. You would think He’d be there, but sometimes it seems like He just wasn’t. 

What do you do in those moments? How do you answer this seemingly unanswerable question? For a while, this question held me down. It seemed like the perfect reason to argue that God simply didn’t care. “If He cared, He would have been there for me growing up!” I used to say to myself. Part of me finds this whole idea foolish now. How can I, who never turned to God for help, wonder where in the world He was? It is as if I never went to a dentist, never brushed my teeth, drank nothing but soda, then barged into the dentist’s office one day in a fit of rage, trying to blame my dentist for my toothache. Nobody wants to take personal responsibility when we aren’t praying, aren’t reading our bibles, and aren’t attending church, yet still have the audacity to complain that our lives are a mess. There is nothing fair about that entire scenario. 

I say this not to condemn. After all, I do this all the time to myself all the time. I say this because the only way to truly reconcile our messy lives with His goodness is that we have to acknowledge that we played a part. And guess what? God lets us make our own choices. He gave us the ability to choose, so we are capable of making mistakes. But as I look back at my own childhood, I have seen God acting as a good parent, lovingly correcting me and steering me away from places where the path could have gotten even darker. I have seen times where I have been redirected off of worse paths, times I have been given warning signs that I was off track, and a few times where I ignored all of the above and learned the hard way like a fool. 

God has given me ample guidance over the years, but sometimes I have been too blind to see it. The other thing I see a lot in others is that they get stubborn. Whether they're too hurt, resentful, or simply fed up with the same answers and don’t want to hear it, they dig their heels in and actively refuse to hear the answers staring them dead in the face. Now, anyone that knows me can attest to the fact that I can be stubborn as well, so I get it. But when God answers that question, when He shows you where He was when you were a kid, I beg of you: do whatever you must to have an open mind. If you are going to try to get an answer from God about where He was, be open to a new perspective. You may be convinced that God keeps saying “I wasn’t,” when you ask Him where He was, but there could be nothing further from the truth. He was there all along. It may not have been in the way that you think. He may not have been there in the way you would have liked, but that’s ok. Bring that concern to Him. Yell at Him, shout curses, get all that anger and resentment out. There is nothing new you can bring to Him. There is nothing He can’t handle. Not only that, He has already died for it all anyway, you might as well lay those cards on the table. 

Can I be honest? I had to do this for a while. The things God let me walk through growing up, had me experience that just plain sucked, they all left me asking that question “how could you?!?” But God walked me through each and every one. I still have those moments where I, in arrogance, think I could have guided myself better. But those moments quickly fade, when I remember how I royally botch some of the opportunities I have been given. I remember the times my judgement has fallen short by a landslide, and how I have looked back and said “thank you, God, for not giving me what I so angrily demanded.” 

It’s a tough pill to swallow, because it’s a lot of pain to heal. I don’t come to you as a clean man. I still have my scars, and sometimes they still crack open a little. But I would be lying if I said I have made no progress. I’m not the angry, defiant ball of angst I once was. God has flooded me with His grace this last year, and I’m forever changed by His merciful love. 

I know this may have been a bit harsh, but if you have made it through to the end, thank you. I pray this entry finds you well, and that you can learn to develop yourself through it. I pray you find healing from whatever sorrows the battlefield brought you, and that you come to the same realization I did: that God was there, is here, and will forever be here. Forever more, His embrace can be yours. 

Until next we meet

Cheers!