Chapter One
Power, Presence, and Protest

In researching this book over the past several months, I have asked a good number of people what the phrase Where is God? actually means to them and if it resonates for them at some level. I have yet to hear one neutral answer, such as, “I don’t know. It sounds boring, irrelevant--no interest.” If fact, the answers have been quite the opposite. People have said:

• “It’s something I think about a lot these days.”
• “Oh my gosh, I ask the question whenever I look at the news.”
• “I thought that when I got sick.”
• “Yes, where was God when I was laid off ?”
• “I have friends in hard times whom I have no answer for.”
• “Didn’t Larry King ask that on his show the other night?”

However universal the phrase may be, the idea has several understandings for different people and for different situations. We don’t all mean the same thing when we ask, “Where is God?” I have found there are three different questions people ask when they think or say it.

The Power Question

I was at a restaurant the other night, and a three-year-old boy was walking around the tables nearby his family. He came to a stop directly behind a waiter who was taking an order, at an angle from which the waiter couldn’t see him. When the waiter turned around, he tripped over the child. Luckily, he was very agile and broke his fall at the last second and avoided landing on the boy. Nevertheless, it was a loud and abrupt event, the kind where people around stopped talking to see what had happened. I jumped out of my chair to help, but things were OK.

From the little boy’s point of view, however, things were not OK. Immediately, he made a beeline for his dad’s chair and crawled into his lap, crying. This response was not one he had to think about. He automatically looked for his parent during a stressful situation that was beyond his ability to fix or understand. He headed for someone who had the power to make things all right again.

As adults, we have the same need for God when we are in tough times. A situation is over our heads, beyond our capacity to fix, and is not getting better. We ask, “Where is God?”, and it is a question of His power, His capacity, and His ability to fix a bad situation. We don’t have the resources or wisdom to handle the problem ourselves. We need a miracle. We want His power to restore our health, find a good job, or put together a fractured relationship. We look to God for the answer, and that is the right direction to look.

Our tendency is to be strong, self-sufficient, and dependent on our own willpower, but rather than try harder, we should reach out to the God who is all-powerful: “Ah, Lord GOD! Behold, You have made the heavens and the earth by Your great power and outstretched arm. There is nothing too hard for You” (Jer. 32:17 nkjv). This is the question I was asking on the Antarctic glacier. When I was in trouble and contemplating falling into the freezing ocean, I wanted power. Protection. Action. A miracle. The strong hand and powerful arm of God.

I have also noticed during this economic downturn that more of my friends talk about God in this way. That is, friends who aren’t involved in church or spiritual activities are looking for God. I was at a party with a neighbor who had been laid off, and he mentioned prayer to me, a subject he and I had never broached. The context was that he was praying for a job opportunity. As a result, our conversation took a deeper and more meaningful turn than it ever had before.

So be aware that your question may be a real question, a search for One who can move mountains and do miracles, for He can.

The Presence Question

Sometimes these three words indicate a desire, some sort of longing for a relationship of closeness and intimacy with God. It is what a wife says to her husband at dinner, when he seems preoccupied or distant: “Where are you?” Meaning, “I can’t experience your presence or your heart right now. The lights are on, but nobody’s home. What’s going on inside you?” She feels a little lost or disoriented, not knowing what he is feeling inside. She is asking for presence, for “being there.” We are designed for more than simply receiving power from God, a relationship in which He does superhero feats to help us. Ultimately, we long for His presence, a connection of closeness with God: “As the deer pants for the water brooks, / So pants my soul for You, O God” (Ps. 42:1 nkjv). God’s love for us goes far beyond rescuing us.

He wants to be with us in a deep and abiding way. He seeks us out. In fact, before we ever asked, “Where is God?” He first asked the same question of us: “Then the Lord God called to Adam and said to him, ‘Where are you?’” (Gen. 3:9 nkjv). He is the real seeker, not us. It’s hard to ask the presence question during difficult times. Struggle and pain come to the forefront and take up our energy and attention. We don’t tend to be all that relationally oriented in the middle of a crisis.

My presence experience with God happened at the glacier’s summit, when things were perfectly beautiful. I would have had to make an effort not to appreciate God then; His presence was all encompassing at that moment. Presence, however, gave way to a need for power when the winds and ice hit us.

Yet one of the signs that we are growing in faith is when we begin to seek God’s presence when things are dark and hard. Continuing to seek Him when He doesn’t come up with the power goods, as we would like Him to do, but recognizing He is there still, comforting and encouraging us, indicates a deepening and maturing of our inner selves as we continue to let him develop us.

Today, I showed my sons, Ricky and Benny, the passage Job 13:15 in the Bible: “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (nkjv). It is one of the most difficult and profound statements of faith in the Bible. We talked about the reality that, while we are to ask for God’s power to help solve our problems, the spiritual life doesn’t stop there. Ultimately, if He takes everything away, if He doesn’t relieve the problems, and if He even takes us down, too, we are to seek Him and hope in Him. I didn’t want to discourage the boys from hoping for a good life--I hope they have great lives. But I wanted them to also see that there is something beyond our circumstances, and that is an emotional, from-the-heart connection to God, no matter what is going on in our lives. We will explore this more fully in the chapter on hard times and faith.

The Question that Is Not a Question

Finally, sometimes “Where is God?” is not actually a question. In my work as a psychologist, I have found this to be a significant issue. For many people who struggle, there is no real and true answer to the where-is-God question that will satisfy them. No explanation from a theological level, a spiritual level, a psychological level, or any level will make a difference to their current conditions. That is because many times, “Where is God?” is not actually a question they’re willing to receive an answer to. It is a protest. It is a statement of how badly they hate what is going on. It is a desire, a wish, a cry of pain and anguish.

It is an emotional reaction to a great difficulty. The desire simply says, I want things to be better. I want the bad times to go away so I can live my normal life. I want my child to straighten out. I want my husband to love me. I want to feel better, not sicker. I want to find a mate. I want a job so I can take care of my family. I simply hate what is going on, and I want things to be different. These are protests, not questions. The most profound and moving where-is-God question that has ever been asked in history is that of Jesus in His own agony on the cross: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matt. 27:46 nkjv). He was not asking for clarification, an answer, or an explanation.

He knew what was going on behind His pain. He knew every reason for what He was experiencing, for He had planned and predicted His own suffering. Speaking to His disciples, He said, “Listen . . . we’re going up to Jerusalem, where the Son of Man will be betrayed to the leading priests and the teachers of religious law. They will sentence him to die. Then they will hand him over to the Romans to be mocked, flogged with a whip, and crucified. But on the third day he will be raised from the dead” (Matt. 20:18–19 nlt). In that moment of pain, Jesus was uttering the question that was not a question.

We often see this in parenting. Kids will ask why they can’t watch TV all night or eat junk food or text message during dinner. And as every good parent knows, you answer the question once or twice, and then you say, “I’ve given you all the reasons I have. Maybe this is more about you just wanting me to change the rule. I’m sorry, but the rule stands.”

Our teenage kids still don’t like our curfew rules. But my wife and I finally figured out that after we explained our position several times, they were no longer asking us a real question. It was a desire couched in a question: “I want you to let me stay out later.” That helps. When we realized this, we no longer wasted time reasoning when reason isn’t the issue at all. So it is helpful when we struggle to think about what we mean deep inside when we ask, “Where is God?” Am I trying to make sense of something that seems insane or evil? Or am I in such distress that I simply have a very strong desire for things to change, and it comes out of my mouth as a question? If it’s a true question, then we can be open to the possibility of answers. If it’s a desire, our efforts need to go toward either doing what we can to achieve that desire or toward learning how to grieve, let something go, adapt to the painful reality, and move on. So the nature of “Where is God?” will direct you to what your next steps are to be.

I have also found that this question can be about protest and understanding at the same time. On the radio program I cohost, New Life Live!, a caller will often ask about a spouse’s behavior and emotional distance. A wife will say, “I want to know why my husband won’t talk to me on a deeper level.” I’ll ask her some questions and get background information on the relationship. At some point I may offer an explanation like, “It may be that he experiences intimacy as unsafe, and he may believe, if he opens up, he’ll be rejected or put down,” or something to that effect. In all the thousands of calls I have ever heard on the program, I do not remember one in which the caller then said, “OK. I just wanted to know why he’s like that. Thanks, bye.” Not once.

The call always evolved to, “How can he open up more?” or “What can I do to help him?” or “What is the next step?” We can also be that way with God. “Where are you?” can be both a protest against a problem and a search for understanding and perspective.