Why Does God Let Terrible Things Happen? (Because “Everything Happens for a Reason” Makes You Want to Scream)
It’s one thing to believe in a good and loving God when your bills are paid, the diagnosis is benign, and everyone in your life is getting along. But it’s a different thing entirely when none of that is true. When you’re sitting beside a hospital bed, watching a news report that makes your stomach turn, or crying behind the wheel because it’s the only time you’re completely alone. In those moments, the question doesn’t whisper, it screams: If God is good, why is this happening? Why do I feel this way? Why doesn’t He make it stop when I’m praying so hard?
When Life Doesn’t Make Sense
This isn’t some armchair theology debate. It’s the aching question that every believer eventually faces. And while we might dress it up in different words, it always circles back to the same haunting doubts: Is God actually paying attention? Does He care about me and my life at all?
God’s Not Afraid of the Question
First, let’s clear something up. Asking “Why, God?” isn’t rebellion, it’s a key element in our relationship with Him. The Bible is full of people who brought their heartbreak, anger, frustration, and confusion straight to God’s doorstep. Job. Jeremiah. David. Even Jesus cried out for God, if it be His will, to let Him avoid the pain and suffering He knew was coming.
If you’ve ever felt like your faith must be broken because you’re angry or confused or hurt, join the club. I know I have been there more times than I can count. God isn’t offended by your honest questions. He invites them. He just won’t always answer them the way we want.
I know this question because I have lived in the question myself. I have a painful and potentially debilitating autoimmune disease called Rheumatoid Arthritis (RA). I have prayed over and over for God to either take away the disease or to decrease the pain. Sometimes the pain is less severe, which is great. Other times, it makes the day a bit harder. I don’t complain. I don’t mention when I’m in pain. It’s not going to do anyone any good if I do. But I do pray. A lot. I’ve had RA for a while now and here’s what I’ve found, God’s with me on the good days and the bad ones. That’s not a cliché, it’s my life. It’s the truth. And, maybe that’s the point. The pain, although I hate it, does keep me grounded and centered. I don’t want it. But it is what it is, so I know there is a reason for it.
Isaiah 55:8–9 reminds me, “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord.” That’s not a cop-out. It’s a reminder that God sees the whole picture, and I don’t. He doesn’t cause evil. He doesn’t cause the pain. But in ways we can’t always see, He does allow it. And somehow, in His perfect justice and mercy, He can still redeem it.
We Live in a Broken World
It sounds obvious, but it matters: we are not in Eden anymore. Genesis 3 makes it clear that sin didn’t just affect human behavior; it fractured the entire world. Pain, death, natural disasters, and injustice are all symptoms of a planet groaning under the weight of brokenness (Romans 8:22).
And sometimes, the hardest part is realizing that free will means God allows choices, ours and others’, to play out. He doesn’t step in like a cosmic referee at every foul. He lets people choose, even when those choices break hearts. Because love that’s forced isn’t love. And freedom without risk isn’t freedom.
But that doesn’t mean He’s passive. It means He’s patient. And thank God for that, because we’ve all needed grace when our own choices have caused pain too.
So What Can I Do With the Pain?
When the questions feel bigger than the answers, here are a few ways I’ve learned to stay grounded:
- Don’t Rush Past the Lament. There is a whole book in the Bible called Lamentations. David poured out raw grief in the Psalms. Pain isn’t unspiritual. It’s real. Name it. Pray it. Write it down. Don’t wrap it up with a fake smile and a “God’s got this.” He does, but He also sits with you in the ashes. So, sit for a while and process the pain. Just make sure that you don’t wallow.
- Hold on to What You Do Know. When life doesn’t make sense, anchor yourself in what hasn’t changed. The promises of Scripture are your lifeline. God is good (Psalm 145:9). He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18). He has a plan even when we can’t see it (Jeremiah 29:11). Let Scripture be the voice that speaks louder than any fear.
- Don’t Suffer Alone. Jesus didn’t build a solo religion. He built a Church. Galatians 6:2 says, “Carry each other’s burdens.” Whether it’s a friend, a pastor, or a good counselor, a family member that you can trust, invite someone into your hurt. You were never meant to carry it alone.
- Remember the Cross and the Empty Tomb. God didn’t just allow suffering; He stepped into it. Jesus was betrayed, beaten, and crucified. He took on every injustice so that one day, He could wipe every tear away. And the resurrection isn’t just a nice ending; it’s the promise that death and evil will never have the final word.
Pain Is a Terrible Teacher, But a Powerful One
I’ll be honest, this isn’t the blog where everything wraps up with a bow. It’s definitely my most personal. Please understand that I’m still working through this too. I still have questions. I still wrestle. But I’ve also seen God bring beauty out of places I was sure were too shattered to hold anything good.
Sometimes, pain is the only thing that cracks us open enough to reach for Him. Not because He caused it, but because He can use it. He can grow compassion where bitterness used to live. He can pull purpose out of despair. And somehow, He can turn even the worst chapters into part of the story He’s still writing.
I don’t know why God lets some things happen. But I know He hasn’t walked away. And He hasn’t walked out on you.
So, if today’s full of questions you don’t have answers for, and maybe don’t even know how to ask, that is normal. I promise. Though that doesn’t really help on a personal level. But know this, you’re deeply, fiercely loved by a God who doesn’t just watch your pain from a distance. He stepped into it, bore it Himself, and is still somehow working for your best while you’re in the middle of it. We may not get all the whys this side of heaven. But know this: God isn’t overlooking your pain. He isn’t an absent Father. And His grace is still showing up, even in the rubble.
☕ My prayer for you: live with a little faith, a little courage, and a whole lot of stubborn joy. – Tonya
What’s been your biggest struggle in trusting God through suffering? I’d love to hear your story.
© 2025 All posts written by Tonya E. Lee.
