I will never forget the day when, as a teenager at summer camp, I saw nestled in a big cardboard box the quivering remains of a black-haired baby goat—a cuddly little kid—that had been bloodied almost to death by a raccoon. It was a goat, not even a person, yet my eyes involuntarily began to shed unstoppable tears as soon as I heard its bleating and saw its face so marred.
Why would God allow a precious little kid, entirely innocent, to be violently attacked and disfigured?
Far worse was the day my cousin Tracey, beautiful and envied, was brutally murdered three decades ago, stabbed 23 times on her 21st birthday. Her medical student husband, at the top of his class, had come home one afternoon to find his wife lacerated and limp, lying on their blood-soaked bed. Her mother was so bereaved that for the next 10 years she couldn’t generate a laugh despite her honest faith in God. The murderer has not been found to this day.
How could God have let this happen?
And then there’s public evil, such as the events of Sept. 11 in which people burned alive or jumped desperately to their deaths from a New York high-rise or were pulverized by the weight of the tumbling building that indiscriminately smashed their bodies down to nothing.
Does God even exist?
That’s the question many ask when they encounter hideous evil.Continue Reading on www.relevantmagazine.com