Why doesn’t God run the world, especially my world, like I want him to? The fact that He doesn’t leads some people to question his goodness.
Our problem is that we define goodness from our finite and fallen perspective, then criticize God for failing to be good in our eyes.
This is our dog Moses. He’s a great dog and we love him. But he is not a rocket scientist. In fact, if he were allowed access to a rocket he would probably sniff it, lick it and then relieve himself on it.
We love Moses, but though we have tried, we can’t explain to him many of our actions in a way he can understand.
Imagine your dog saying, “If I were my master, I would never discipline me or give me a shot or a big pill; I would let myself run free in the neighborhood and take steaks from any barbecue I find. Since he does not do this, my master must not be good.”
The master who claims to be a good dog owner never bases his claim on the dog’s standards, but on his own. We know we love our dog and are looking out for his best interests. The fact that he doesn’t always know may be unfortunate, but it is irrelevant. We love him and hope that he’ll trust our love even when things don’t make sense to him.
When we apply our human standards to God, it’s like dogs applying canine standards to us. Our conclusions will invariably come up short.
"'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,' declares the Lord. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'" (Isaiah 55:8)