Somehow I always knew that my faith wouldn’t survive a Real Test. Being a middle class white American male, it wasn’t tested that often, so it wasn’t really an issue. The question of “why does God allow bad things to happen?” was purely philosophical to me. Most of the time I was comfortable with pat answers, or I just didn’t think about it.
Then, about a year ago, a perfect storm of circumstances occurred. Toxic behavior by the leadership of our church, combined with the revelation that my father-in-law (a pastor who was one of the people who led me to Christ) had molested his son. Almost worse was the fact that he didn’t see why his church needed to know about it.
My faith packed up and left town in the dead of night with the headlights off, leaving in the same mysterious way that it had arrived ten years earlier...[read the rest here.]