When Why Becomes a Prayer
Be Still Originals Devotional
There I sat again.
My Bible was open in front of me, my journal lying beside it, and a question I had asked more times than I could count was weighing heavily on my heart.
God, why?
Why did this happen?
Why did things have to turn out this way?
Why, when I have tried so hard to follow You, am I sitting here trying to make sense of something I never saw coming?
I knew God was good.
I knew He loved me.
I knew His Word told me to trust Him.
But knowing those things didn't make the questions disappear.
And almost as quickly as the questions came, so did the guilt.
Father, I'm sorry.
Please forgive me for questioning You.
Forgive me for not trusting You enough.
I would try to push the questions aside, reminding myself that God had a plan, that His ways were higher than mine, and that I needed to have faith.
But if I'm being completely honest, the questions were still there.
I hadn't found answers.
I had simply convinced myself that asking them meant I wasn't trusting God.
So I would close my Bible, wipe away the tears, and try a little harder to have faith.
Until the next time.
And then the questions would come again.
This past Sunday, I sat in church listening as our pastor began talking about something that caught my attention.
Asking God why.
I listened a little more closely.
He explained, with such sincerity and love, that asking God why isn't necessarily a sign of lacking faith.
Sometimes, it is an expression of faith.
I sat there thinking about that.
Could it really be?
Could the very questions I had been apologizing for be an invitation to draw closer to my Father?
Could saying, "God, I don't understand," actually be an expression of trust rather than a failure to trust?
For so long, I had thought faith meant accepting what happened without questioning it.
That somehow, if I truly trusted God, I wouldn't need to ask why.
But as I began thinking about what Scripture actually says, I realized something.
There is a difference between questioning God's goodness and bringing our questions to a good God.
And that distinction changed the way I looked at my prayers.
I thought about David.
A man Scripture describes as a man after God's own heart.
Yet in Psalm 13, David cries out:
"How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?"
Can you imagine?
David wasn't carefully choosing words that made him sound spiritually strong.
He was hurting.
He felt forgotten.
He didn't understand what was happening.
And he told God.
He didn't hide his pain behind a prayer that sounded more acceptable.
He brought his heart.
His whole heart.
And something remarkable happens as you continue reading.
By the end of the psalm, David declares his trust in God's unfailing love.
Scripture doesn't tell us that David's circumstances suddenly changed.
It doesn't say all his questions were answered.
But we see a man who began his prayer in anguish and ended it remembering the goodness of the God he was speaking to.
David's questions didn't take him away from God. He brought them directly to Him.
Then I thought about Habakkuk.
If you've never read the opening chapter of Habakkuk, I encourage you to.
He looks at the injustice, violence, and suffering around him and asks God why.
Why are You allowing this?
Why aren't You intervening?
How long must this continue?
And God responds.
But His response isn't what Habakkuk expected.
In fact, it raises even more questions.
I find that comforting.
Not because I enjoy unanswered questions, but because it reminds me that I am not the first person to struggle with understanding what God is doing.
And I won't be the last.
By the end of Habakkuk, the circumstances he describes are still frightening.
The crops may fail.
The fields may produce no food.
The flocks may disappear.
Everything he depends on may be taken away.
Yet he declares that he will rejoice in the Lord.
Not because he suddenly understands everything.
But because he knows who God is.
And then there is Jesus.
On the cross, suffering in a way none of us can fully comprehend, He cries out:
"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" — Matthew 27:46
Those words come from Psalm 22, a psalm that begins in anguish and ultimately speaks of God's faithfulness.
Jesus' suffering on the cross was unique. He was accomplishing something no one else could accomplish.
But His cry reminds me that bringing anguish before God is not the same thing as abandoning faith.
And perhaps that is what I needed to understand.
God never asked me to pretend that pain doesn't hurt.
He never asked me to pretend I understand something when I don't.
He never asked me to hide my confusion until I could come to Him with a more confident prayer.
He invites me to come.
Just as I am.
With the questions.
With the tears.
With the confusion.
With the fears I don't even know how to put into words.
Hebrews 4:16 tells us to approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Think about that for a moment.
The very place I had been afraid to bring my questions is the place God invites me to find mercy and grace.
I had been treating my confusion as something I needed to overcome before coming to God.
But what if my confusion is one of the very reasons I need to come?
What if the question "Why, God?" isn't always an accusation?
What if sometimes it's simply the cry of a child who knows her Father is the only One who can help her understand?
I think about a little child who has been hurt.
They run to their parent, tears streaming down their face, unable to make sense of what happened.
They don't always have the words to explain it.
Sometimes all they can manage is, "Why?"
And a loving parent doesn't require that child to understand everything before offering comfort.
They draw them close.
They listen.
They hold them.
Sometimes they explain.
Sometimes the child isn't ready to understand.
And sometimes there isn't an explanation that can make the hurt disappear.
But the child doesn't have to face it alone.
And isn't that a beautiful picture of the relationship our heavenly Father invites us into?
Now, I want to be careful here.
God doesn't promise that every question we ask will receive an explanation.
Sometimes He gives us understanding.
Sometimes He gives us wisdom for the next step.
Sometimes the answer unfolds over time.
And sometimes, at least in this life, the answer may never come.
I don't want to suggest that if we pray long enough, believe strongly enough, or wait patiently enough, God will eventually explain every painful thing we've experienced.
Scripture doesn't promise that.
But God does promise something even greater than an explanation.
His presence.
His mercy.
His wisdom.
His sustaining grace.
He promises never to leave or forsake His children.
And perhaps that's where faith grows.
Not when I finally understand why everything happened.
But when I begin to trust that I can remain close to God even when I don't understand.
When I can say,
"Father, I don't know why this happened."
"I don't know how it will turn out."
"I don't know what tomorrow will bring."
"But I know who You are."
And I can trust Him with the questions I cannot answer.
I think back to all those mornings when I apologized for asking why.
I know there will still be times when my questions reveal fear, impatience, or a desire to control things that belong in God's hands.
And when they do, I want to recognize that and repent.
But I no longer want to assume that every question is evidence of unbelief.
Sometimes asking why is the most honest prayer I have.
Sometimes it's my way of saying,
"Father, I trust You enough to tell You that I'm hurting."
"I trust You enough to admit that I'm confused."
"I trust You enough to bring You the things I cannot carry or understand."
And maybe, just maybe, the greatest gift God gives me in those moments isn't the answer I've been searching for.
Maybe it's the assurance that I don't have to carry the question alone.
I still don't understand everything.
There are things I may never understand this side of heaven.
But I am learning that faith doesn't require me to stop asking questions.
It invites me to keep bringing those questions to the One who loves me.
And sometimes the most faithful prayer I can offer is simply:
"Father, I don't understand. I know You are good. And I need You to help me trust You with what I cannot understand."
Because I am discovering something about my Father.
He doesn't require me to have all the answers before I come to Him.
He welcomes me because I don't.
Encouragement
If you're sitting with a question today that has brought more tears than answers, I want you to know something.
You don't have to apologize simply because you don't understand.
You don't have to pretend you're not hurting.
And you don't have to manufacture confidence you aren't feeling.
God already knows what's in your heart.
He knows the questions you've whispered and the ones you've been afraid to say aloud.
Bring them to Him.
Not with the expectation that He owes you an explanation, but with the confidence that He is a loving Father who welcomes you into His presence.
There is a difference between demanding that God explain Himself before you will trust Him and trusting Him enough to bring Him your confusion.
One places conditions on faith.
The other brings faith into the middle of uncertainty.
And if you find yourself returning with the same question tomorrow, remember that the invitation to approach His throne of grace has not expired.
Sometimes faith isn't having the courage to stop asking why. It's having the courage to keep talking to God when He hasn't answered.
❤️ Heart Audit
Spend a few quiet moments with your Father and ask:
Have I been apologizing to God for questions He has already invited me to bring before Him? Am I confusing honest grief and uncertainty with a lack of faith?
When I ask God why, what am I truly seeking? Am I demanding an explanation before I will trust Him, or am I inviting Him into my pain because I know He is good?
If God never explains this particular circumstance to me, can I learn to trust His character even while my questions remain? What do I know about Him through Scripture that I can hold on to today?
Prayer
Father,
You know the questions I carry.
You know the ones I've asked a hundred times and the ones I've been afraid to speak.
You know how often I've come before You confused, hurting, and desperately wanting to understand.
And You know how many times I've apologized because I thought asking why meant I wasn't trusting You.
Thank You for reminding me that You are a Father who welcomes His children.
Thank You for allowing me to bring my whole heart before You, not just the parts that sound faithful and strong.
Teach me the difference between questioning Your goodness and bringing my questions to You because I believe You are good.
Forgive me when my questions become demands or when I allow my need for answers to become greater than my desire to know You.
But Father, when my questions come from a hurting heart, help me remember that I don't have to hide them.
Give me wisdom where I need direction.
Give me patience where I need to wait.
Give me courage where I need to take another step.
And where answers do not come, give me the grace to rest in who You are.
I may never understand everything that happens in this life.
But I want to know You more deeply through every season of it.
Thank You for listening.
Thank You for loving me.
And thank You that I never have to carry my unanswered questions alone.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.
📖 See for Yourself
This week, I want to invite you to spend some time with three people in Scripture who brought their questions before God.
Psalm 13 — David
Notice how honestly David begins his prayer. Then pay attention to how it ends.
What changed in his circumstances? What changed in the way he expressed his trust?
Habakkuk 1:1–4 and 3:17–19 — Habakkuk
Notice the questions Habakkuk asks and the confidence he expresses at the end of the book.
What does his journey reveal about trusting God when life doesn't make sense?
Matthew 27:45–46 and Psalm 22 — Jesus and the words of David
Read Jesus' cry from the cross, then read the psalm from which His words come.
What do these passages reveal about bringing anguish before God?
As you read, consider one question:
What do these passages reveal about the kind of Father God is to those who are hurting and confused?
I'd love to hear what you discover as you spend time in His Word.
Tomorrow's Invitation
Tomorrow morning, when you sit down with your Bible, don't begin by trying to find an answer to everything you're carrying.
Begin by being honest with your Father.
Tell Him what hurts.
Tell Him what confuses you.
Ask the questions you've been afraid to ask.
Then spend some time reading His Word, allowing what He has revealed about Himself to shape how you understand what you cannot see.
You don't have to leave that time with every question answered.
You can simply leave knowing you've brought your heart to the One who loves you.
And if all you can manage is,
"Father, I don't understand, but I trust You to help me,"
let that be your prayer.
Anchor Truth
Faith doesn't require us to understand everything God allows. It invites us to bring everything we don't understand to the God we trust.
