Glacier: Moose and the Problem of Pain

When we went to Glacier in 2019, I knew exactly what I wanted to write this blog post about. Our whole time in the Rocky Mountains, my friend who was traveling with us wanted nothing more than to see a moose. The second half of our trip was in the Great Plains, so it had to happen in Grand Teton, Yellowstone, or Glacier. I had a strange peace during the whole trip that we would see one before we headed east. As our time in Glacier neared its end, we took one final walk down a short trail as the moon was starting to rise and, to our great delight, found three moose cows enjoying some dinner in a small lake. It was the perfect ending to a really great day (that unexpectedly sent us to Canada).

In that moment, all I could do was smile with the peace of knowing that God knew our hearts’ desire and had fulfilled it because he cares about even small things like wanting to see a wild moose. The post basically wrote itself in my head. But, life happens and I got way behind on the blog. And I’m not writing this post until now, four years and a wild religious deconstruction after the trip.

Evolving Faith

I was a really good evangelical Christian. I went to church twice a week, played keys on the worship team, co-facilitated Financial Peace University classes, ran the ProPresenter, served as Treasurer for our local American Heritage Girls troop, gave faithfully, and had my own personal devotional study and prayer time. I believed (most of) the “right” things, tried to do the “right” things, and raise my kids the “right” way.

Then COVID-19 hit.

Sparing a very long story full of twists, turns, and lots of nuance, in the absence of meeting weekly in person – and being on furlough from my regular job – I had lots of time to explore other sources of religious thought. I read books, listened to podcasts, and joined online communities that weren’t afraid of asking tough questions. I finally gave voice to my own questions and wonderings I had for years but always pushed aside. The result from where I’m sitting now, three years into what has been a beautiful – and difficult – journey of evolving faith is a deeper, more robust version of Christianity than I once clung to. I am no longer so focused on right belief as on an open-minded and open-handed faith that is comfortable with “I don’t know.”

The Loss of Simplicity

While I am so grateful for the journey I’ve been on as I’ve explored and deepened my faith in ways I never imagined, there have been some very significant growing pains. One example of such pains is the loss of a simplistic view of an omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent, and loving God. I have studied all variety of answers to and explanations of the problem of pain, and at this stage in my faith journey, the one that makes the most sense to me is that God cannot be all four of those things. If God is truly loving, and he knows all, is everywhere, and is all-powerful, then no sense can be made of the absolutely horrific things that happen in the world, both by human hand and by natural forces.

Right now, I choose to believe in a loving God who is not omnipotent. A God who is present with us, celebrating with us, suffering with us, but not controlling what happens or what people do. So where does that leave me with the moose story? If God cared so much about us seeing a moose and could orchestrate the timing so perfectly that it would cap the end of that chapter in our trip, then why wouldn’t he stop Salvador Ramos from opening fire at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde? Why would he let nearly 60,000 people die in a 7.8 magnitude earthquake centered in the war-torn and already devastated country of Syria? Questions like these have rocked me to my core, and I find no peace in simplistic answers anymore.

Omnipresent Love

But there was that confident peace I had the whole time we were in the Tetons and Yellowstone that we would see a moose by the time we left Glacier. I don’t know what to make of that. Evangelical me knew it was God letting me know he’s got this and to just trust him. Post-evangelical me doesn’t think God orchestrated the whole thing, or even necessarily knew we would see a moose that day. But I do believe he was there with us, joyfully celebrating the moment of discovery, sharing in the quiet half hour we spent on the lakeshore watching them eat as the moon rose higher. It was a beautiful moment, and I strongly felt his presence there. Whether he had anything to do with the series of events that led to that moment or not, he was there in the midst of the joy, just as he has proven himself to be there in the midst of the suffering.

And that is the God I still cling to. A God of love. He may not be able to grant my wishes like a genie, or make people do what I want them to, or physically remove a cancerous growth; but what he IS is so much more. He nudges me to make choices I may not have on my own. He gives me words to tell people my hopes for them, and the resolve to let them make their own decisions. He gives doctors the knowledge and skill to bring healing to hurting people. He is love, and it is his love I will always strive to keep at the center and as an outpouring of my life.