Why by These Means?
by Megan Huwa
Job’s cosmic battle is above our human understanding, yet our human condition fell on the premise that surely God withholds our ultimate good from us. Surely, the more we know, the more we ascertain our position as god on our heart’s throne.
Jerod’s favorite word as a child was why. Whatever answer was given, he followed up with, “Why?”
My pain, when it reaches a boiling point, often has me doubled up on the bed weeping. Without thought, I cry, “Why, Lord?”
Me: “Why?”
Job, a blameless and upright man with the highest riches by the world’s standards, lost it all—children, the faith of his wife, and his wealth. He professed faith in God on the highest mountain, yet Satan questioned whether Job would profess faith in God in the valley.
Job’s friends sought to explain why the Lord surely used these means in Job’s life to bring him low into the valley. Surely, Job deserved such loss, they answered. Then Elihu sought to speak on behalf of God to explain Job’s suffering.
This cosmic battle is above our human understanding, yet our human condition fell on the premise that surely God withholds our ultimate good from us. Surely, the more we know, the more we ascertain our position as god on our heart’s throne.
However, in Isaiah 55, God says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. . . . As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (verses 8–9).
God: “Where Were You?”
In His first response to Job (Job 38), God asks Job and his friends this question: “Where were you…?” Though Job’s wife and friends sought to explain God’s ways, Job still professed faith; he professed that God’s ways were wiser though he did not understand them. God continues with 70 more questions pinpointing their small view of God in the totality of creation and fall. And it’s not just their small view of God — it’s my small view.
“Where were you?” points to origin, time, and preeminence (Col. 1:15-19), for “in the beginning,” God created the heavens and the earth (Gen. 1). Jesus was the Word “in the beginning,” and He was “with God” (John 1). Further, the triune is fulfilled with the Spirit of God, who “hovered above the deep” before the creation of the world (Gen. 1:2).
God watches over the doe as she bears her fawn and the mountain goat her kid. He sees their toiling, and when they bring forth life, “their labor pains are ended” (Job 39:1-3). If God sees and knows the anguish of the doe and mountain goat, how much more does He know ours?
Even David acknowledges that God’s omniscience of David’s ways, thoughts, and being far outweighs his ability to comprehend it: “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain” (Psalm 139:6).
God: “Where are You?”
When Adam and Eve fell, they heard God walking in the garden and hid, but God asked them, “Where are you?” (Gen. 1:9). In their shame, they hid their nakedness from God, yet He still sought them, for His question speaks to presence, proximity, nearness. Nearness is not just for our good; it’s for His “pleasure” (Rev. 4:11).
Adam and Eve were aware that God was walking near them, yet how often I fail to recognize God’s nearness to me. This error is not God’s — it’s mine. Our God is one who seeks out and asks, “Where are you?”
He is the one that takes the hide of his animal creation to clothe and cover His ashamed children.
He is the one who leaves the 99 to find the one.
He is the father running to his prodigal child walking up the road.
He is the one hanging on the cross for all humanity.
He is the one ushering in during the dark of night when His child weeps, “Why, Lord?”
A Flicker of Affliction: An Answered Prayer
In those moments of affliction, I do not necessarily question who God is; rather, I question: “Why by these means, Lord?”
Since college, my daily prayer has been for the Lord’s nearness. It’s the last thing I write in my journal before I sign off with, “Amen.” Yet I cannot say that my prayer for God’s nearness has resided in my wisdom, for such wisdom is “too wonderful,” “too lofty” for me to conceive.
Psalm 119:67 says, “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word.” My prayer for His nearness has been answered in ways that are higher and wiser; however, His nearness to me (and mine to Him) has primarily come through affliction.
He has been near.
He has been at my bedside, He has sustained just one more step, He has held my delicate frame, He has put His words in my heart and mind, He has given me a longing for my eternal home, He has satisfied my longings with Him, He has been my Good Shepherd, He has been the song in my heart.
He has said, “I see you” even though you are a shut-in, and I see your anguish just as I see the doe, the fawn, the mountain goat, and the kid.
Like Job, I cannot pretend to understand why. I cannot understand why the Lord would choose these means to keep me near Him — why my body leaks cerebrospinal fluid, and its ripple effect constitutes such significant loss on this side of eternity.
I cannot understand the why of being hit by a drunk driver in March and why the gain of health over the past two years has been lost.
But this I know — these means of affliction in me have measured the nearness of Him in my walk. The extent of this world’s darkness never outstretches God’s reach, God’s sight, and God’s light.
So, why? Because His nearness is my good (Psalm 78:28).