When bad things happen where is God?

Natasha

It’s a question many of us ask, especially when we watch or listen to the news. But how do you answer that when something bad happens to you? Where is God when a mother’s worst nightmare is realised? Revd Nikki Thornhill is that mother and says, today, “He’s right there, crouching down on the floor with you when you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get back up again.”

You might think she would say that, she’s a Revd. But on that day, when Nikki’s beautiful little girl Natasha toddled behind a waste-removal truck, Nikki had very little concept of God. And even less of why such brutal things can happen to glorious, perfect little children.

“I was a young army wife posted in Germany,” says Nikki. “Another wife had recently become a Christian and I was mildly curious, but life was busy.” The Gulf War had just started, it was Christmas and Nikki was pregnant with Natasha, thankful that the army had allowed her husband Bill to stay with her until their first baby was born. “We had so many knocks on the door on Christmas Eve from mothers asking Bill for help to assemble flat-packed toys as all their partners were away!”

Terrible sense of foreboding

After Natasha was born, baby Alex came along and the young family popped back to the UK as Nikki’s stepdad was unwell. On the day before returning home everything changed. “I woke up and had this terrible sense of foreboding. I felt physically sick but couldn’t understand why. My stepdad had asked a friend, Keith, a waste-removal driver, to pick up some rubbish out of hours and we went to have a look. Natasha slipped out of my hands, out of the gate and into the road. Keith didn’t see her and within seconds she was gone.”

Nikki describes the following hours as surreal, an out of body experience. “I heard this awful primal wail, barely realising it was mine.” In the chaotic aftermath of police, social services and questions, one thought was crystal clear – that Nikki needed to speak to Keith. “The police were reluctant but agreed. We both went around and the first thing I did was hug him. We needed him to know that we didn’t blame him.”

And where was God? “Where indeed,” says Nikki. “I was angry with Him, not with Keith, furious that He could let my baby die so cruelly.”

And where was God? “Where indeed,” says Nikki. “I was angry with Him, not with Keith, furious that He could let my baby die so cruelly.” Going back to Germany was hard, people would cross the street or shopping aisle to avoid having to talk to Nikki and she challenged God to make His presence known by giving them a compassionate posting back to the UK. “The very next day we received a call and were on our way to Winchester – not that I gave God any of the credit.”

Life rumbled on. Nikki became pregnant again but at 30 weeks experienced contractions. “I had that same sick feeling and cried out to God to make the doctors take my concerns seriously. They did and ten weeks early by caesarean, Vicki was born – a beautiful bundle, no bigger than a bag of sugar.”

Now is the time to worship…and cry

Ten years on and Nikki was now living in Wales when another person came into her life who had recently become a Christian. “I don’t know why, but I knocked on her door and asked if I could come with her to church. They began to sing, Now is the Time to Worship, and I fell to my knees, in cascades of tears and sorrow and heard God gently say, “I’ve always been here, through everything.”

I fell to my knees, in cascades of tears and sorrow and heard God gently say, “I’ve always been here, through everything.”

Life transformed from then on. The family moved north but the marriage collapsed and Nikki had an overwhelming desire to be back in the place in Wales where she had first gone to church. They were church-planting into a housing estate, the type of estate that most people try to escape from, but Nikki felt that was where God wanted her to be. A call to the housing officer seemed to contradict that as the only houses available were uninhabitable. “I called John, the parish priest, who said, ’OK angel, let’s pray.” The next day the housing office called back as a suitable house had become free.

“It was colourful. We lived opposite a drug dealer, but there was a hunger that I wanted to help to feed. Life in church could be challenging and I even walked out one day after an incident. But a friend coaxed me back and I felt the community wrap itself around me and a picture flashed up in my mind of me, standing up at the front – obviously I dismissed it as nonsense!”

God’s sense of humour

Except not quite. Nikki took a drive that afternoon and threw up another challenge. If God really wanted her to take this further then she needed proof. The sort of proof that only comes on huge black and white billboards. “As I turned the corner, there it was – a huge sign, not in black and white but of a pair of rainbow coloured socks and the words, ‘Don’t get cold feet!’ You have to admit, God has a sense of humour!”

Her priest laughed as well, saying he had been waiting for her to come to him. However, it was to the Church Army rather than ordination that Nikki was first directed and she obediently took up the reins, thinking she would be able to return to the housing estate and carry on her work there after training. However, as she says, “If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans!”

And so began another of God’s slide-shows. “This time it was of me on a naval ship!” laughs Nikki. “Which was totally bonkers as the Church Army pulled out of MOD years ago and my feet were firmly on dry land!” But when Nikki walked into the library to distract herself, she opened the Church Times to an advert for a naval chaplain. She quickly folded it back up. That evening, she turned on the TV and another advert for the navy popped up. Life aboard HMS Raleigh beckoned.

It’s ok to cry out and shout at God

Nikki with her most recent confirmation candidates at Truro Cathedral

Five years later, the call to ordination became too loud to ignore and Nikki succumbed, finally joining the congregation in Wadebridge where she is at the foot of her second year, wondering where God wants her to go next.

“What started out as an excruciatingly painful journey has been honoured by God,” says Nikki. “I have ministered to other parents who have lost their children but I never say to them ‘I know how you feel’ because I don’t. Everyone grieves differently. But I can draw alongside them and be there for them. I do tell my story, not make people feel sorry for me but to say if God can get me through this, he can get me through anything.”

“It’s ok to cry out and shout at God – He’s a great big God and he can handle it. When bad things happen – where is God? He’s right there, crying alongside you.”

“It’s ok to cry out and shout at God – He’s a great big God and he can handle it. When bad things happen – where is God? He’s right there, crying alongside you.”

Natasha