What Do You Do When God's Answer Makes No Sense?

By Pastor John Erickson

Have you ever prayed about something, and then watched the situation get worse?

Not a little worse. Much worse.

You ask God to help with a difficult problem. You're pretty clear on what a good answer would look like. And instead, the circumstances move in precisely the direction you were hoping to avoid.

Now what?

That's part of why I love the book of Habakkuk. It's tucked away in the Old Testament, and it's not exactly the kind of book where you can grab any random verse, embroider it on a pillow, and call it a day.

But if you stay with it, Habakkuk has something important to teach us about what faith does when we don't understand God.

Habakkuk Starts with an Honest Complaint

Habakkuk was a prophet in Judah. He watched injustice, violence, and wrongdoing spread around him. He knew what God's people were supposed to be like, and he could see that reality didn't match.

So he complained to God.

He asked why God seemed to tolerate injustice and why the wicked seemed to get away with hurting others.

Now, some people may think a prophet ought to know better than to talk to God that way. But here's what I find fascinating: Habakkuk doesn't run from God with his questions. He brings his questions to God.

There's a difference.

We sometimes believe faith means pretending we're not angry, confused, or disappointed. Habakkuk shows us that a relationship with God is a place where those things can be spoken honestly.

Then God Gives an Answer Nobody Wanted

God responds to Habakkuk, but the answer is surprising.

He's going to use the Babylonians, a violent empire, as an instrument of judgment on Judah.

Imagine going to your doctor because of a small problem and being told the treatment is going to feel much worse than the symptoms. Except in Habakkuk's case, the proposed answer seems morally harder to understand than the original problem.

Habakkuk essentially says, "Hold on. You're going to address injustice by bringing in people who appear even more unjust?"

That's a serious question. And the book doesn't brush it aside.

Sometimes I think we approach prayer as if it were a way to give God a list of acceptable solutions. We know exactly how the answer should look. The only missing step is getting God on board.

I have spent a great deal of time praying for myself, our church, and people I care about. I believe God hears us, but His response has not always been the one I wanted or arrived when I wanted it. I keep coming back to the hope that His final restoration is larger than the answers I can see today. That is a hope I hold while praying for healing, not a promise that I can name the date or outcome of every illness.

But Habakkuk's encounter with God upends his expectations.

Faith Sometimes Looks Like Wrestling

Habakkuk continues his conversation with God. He questions. He argues. He struggles to understand.

That reminds me of Jacob in Genesis 32, wrestling through the night and refusing to let go without a blessing.

We don't usually put wrestling and spiritual maturity together. We prefer words like peaceful, settled, and confident.

But there are seasons when staying close to God looks like refusing to stop talking to him, even when you're upset.

It's easier to walk away. It's easier to turn frustration into distance and distance into silence.

Habakkuk chooses something else. He remains engaged.

And when he's finished making his complaint, he says he will take his stand and watch for what God will say.

He's not finished with God. He's waiting to hear from him.

God's Timing Is Not Ours

Habakkuk 2 also makes clear that Babylon's violence will face God's judgment. God is not calling evil good or granting human empires permission to do whatever they want.

In Habakkuk 2, God tells the prophet to write down the vision. What has been revealed has an appointed time. Though it seems slow, he is to wait for it.

I remember mailing in cereal-box offers for toys when I was a kid. The promised wait was six to eight weeks. By the time the toy arrived, I had practically forgotten asking for it. Now I can find myself annoyed when an Amazon delivery is coming tomorrow instead of today. Apparently I have not become more patient with age.

That small contrast does not explain the pain of a long, unanswered prayer. But it does expose how deeply I expect life to run on my preferred timetable.

I don't love that answer.

I want things fixed now. I want the painful situation resolved before dinner. I want the conversation to go well, the relationship to heal, and the uncertainty to disappear.

And a lot of the time, our frustration isn't just about what God is doing. It's about how long he's taking.

Now, waiting doesn't mean passivity. It doesn't mean ignoring injustice or refusing to make wise decisions. Habakkuk's waiting is active attention to God in the middle of unresolved circumstances.

He keeps his place on the watchtower. He remains awake and engaged.

We can do the same: pray, seek wisdom, act faithfully where we have responsibility, and acknowledge that we may not understand the whole picture.

Trust Isn't the Same as Understanding

One of the central statements of Habakkuk is that the righteous will live by faithfulness.

That doesn't mean we stop thinking or asking hard questions. It means our relationship with God doesn't have to depend on possessing a complete explanation.

I think this matters especially when life disappoints us. We can spend so much energy trying to get God to explain everything that we forget we can still draw near to him.

There's a difference between saying, "I understand why this happened," and saying, "I don't understand, but I'm still here. I'm still listening. I'm still going to walk with you."

Habakkuk gives us permission to say the second one.

If you're in a season where what you see doesn't match what you believe about God, don't assume that your questions disqualify you from faith.

Take them to him. Be honest. Stand at your watchtower. Keep listening.

Sometimes abiding in God looks less like sitting peacefully in a chair and more like holding on during the struggle.

That is still faith.