God’s Opportunities and the Cost of Truth

To be honest, it has been worrisome—to put it lightly.

This person is not in a position to care for a child. They are not financially independent. They are still dependent on their family. And from what we can see, they are not mature enough to handle the responsibility of raising a life.

My husband and I found ourselves up until the early hours of the morning talking through it all, asking a question that felt heavy and uncomfortable:

Why would God allow this?

Why would He place something so significant—so fragile—into the hands of someone who clearly isn’t ready, especially at the likely expense of the child?

At the time, that felt like the right question to ask.

But I would come to realize later…
it wasn’t the question God was asking me at all.

This isn’t just our question.

It’s a question the world has tried to answer already.

You hear it often in conversations around abortion:

If someone is not fit to be a parent, wouldn’t it be more merciful to end the child’s life than to allow them to suffer?

And if we’re being honest, that argument doesn’t come out of nowhere. There are people—doctors, police officers, military personnel—who have seen unimaginable things. Neglect. Abuse. Broken homes. True evil and cycles that seem impossible to escape.

So at first glance, that reasoning can sound compassionate.

But when we measure it against God’s truth, it falls apart.

Exodus 20:13

Ending a life doesn’t solve brokenness.
It removes the very opportunity God has given.

Somewhere in that late-night conversation, the question began to shift.

Not “Why would God allow this?”
But:

“What opportunity is God giving here?”

Because the truth is simple, even if it’s not easy:

God gives us opportunities to do better on a daily basis.

Lamentations 3:22–23

Every day is another chance:

• to grow
• to take responsibility
• to turn back to Him
• to choose differently

And every life—no matter the circumstance—is part of that opportunity.

There is a reality we don’t like to talk about—but we need to.

Not every path that feels right is actually leading us in the right direction.

Scripture warns us clearly:

Proverbs 14:12

“There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.”

That’s a hard truth.

Because it means sincerity isn’t enough.
Believing something is right doesn’t make it true.

We are seeing more and more a shift in how truth is defined—not by God’s Word, but by feelings, experiences, and personal identity.

And one of the most common arguments used today sounds like this:

“If God is love, then we should love and accept everyone exactly as they are.”

That statement sounds right. It sounds compassionate.

But it is incomplete.

Because Jesus showed us what real love looks like.

In John 8:11, He tells the woman:

“Neither do I condemn you… go, and sin no more.”

He did not reject her.
But He also did not affirm the sin.

That is the part many people leave out.

As parents of teenagers, this is not theoretical for us—it’s something we are living through.

We have seen firsthand how difficult it has become to stay connected with our kids as they are being pulled in different directions by what they hear from schools, media, and peers.

They are in one of the most vulnerable stages of life—trying to figure out who they are, what they believe, and where they belong.

And into that vulnerability come messages like:

• “Follow your truth”
• “If it feels right, it is right”
• “Anyone who disagrees with you—even your parents—is against you”
• “Acceptance means never questioning someone’s choices”

These ideas are often presented as growth, as enlightenment, as compassion.

But when they are not rooted in God’s truth, they don’t lead to freedom—they lead away from Him.

Scripture gives a different picture of how we are meant to grow:

Romans 12:2

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”

Transformation doesn’t come from affirming everything we feel.
It comes from aligning ourselves with what is true.

One thing I keep coming back to is this:

God’s opportunities and God’s truth are not separate.

God gives us opportunities every day—but those opportunities are invitations to align with His truth.

And the reality is:

It is a choice.

We can choose to move toward Him…
Or we can choose what feels right in the moment.

Scripture warns us about this tension:

James 1:14–15

“Each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own desire… then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin…”

Sin rarely looks destructive at the beginning.
Often, it feels justified. Even right.

But choices—especially repeated ones—have direction.

They either lead us closer to God…
or further away from Him.

This is where it becomes deeply personal for me.

As a mother, I don’t just think about these things—I feel them.

I see our children and grandchildren struggling, trying to figure out life, and every part of me wants to step in and fix it. When you love someone, you want what’s best for them. You want to protect them from pain, from mistakes, from consequences.

But as my husband often reminds me:

They are adults.

At some point, they have to stand on their own and make their own choices.

We can guide them.
We can pray for them.
We can speak truth to them.

But we cannot choose for them.

And that is incredibly hard to accept.

I’ve seen what happens when choices repeatedly move someone away from God.

I have a family member I was once very close to. Over time, during their teenage years and into adulthood, they began abusing drugs and alcohol.

Those choices didn’t stay isolated.

They led to more decisions—each one pulling them further from reality, further from stability, and further from God’s truth.

Eventually, their lifestyle became so destructive that I had to step away. Not out of lack of love—but because staying close meant allowing harm to spread to others.

And here’s the part that has stayed with me:

Other family members chose a different approach.

They affirmed this person’s beliefs and behavior—not because they agreed with them, but because they wanted to “keep the peace.” They didn’t want to lose the relationship.

But the truth is:

You cannot build real peace on something that is not true.

Scripture reminds us:

Isaiah 5:20

“Woe to those who call evil good and good evil…”

Affirming what is harmful doesn’t heal it.
It allows it to grow.

And in this case, the relationship wasn’t preserved—it was still broken. Only now, more people were affected.

After walking through something like that, it changes how you see everything.

It makes it harder to step back.
Harder to “let them figure it out.”
Harder to trust the process.

Because you’ve seen where certain paths can lead.

So when I look at our own children—still in their teenage years, stepping into adulthood—I feel that tension deeply.

I want to hold on tighter.

I want to protect them from every wrong turn.

But I also know this truth:

Faith cannot be forced.

At some point, it has to be chosen.

And this is where I have to come back—again and again—to God.

Because the same God who gives opportunities…
is the same God who pursues hearts.

We plant seeds.
We speak truth.
We model what we can.

But ultimately, each person must decide what they will do with the opportunities God gives them.

Scripture reminds us:

Deuteronomy 30:19

“I have set before you life and death… now choose life.”

God gives the opportunity.

But He also gives the choice.

I realize, as I write all of this, how much of my own understanding has been shaped by the man God placed in my life.

I am incredibly fortunate that God gave me a husband who has seen things most people never will. He has walked through some of the darkest situations, encountered real evil, and experienced life in ways that could have easily hardened his heart.

But it didn’t.

Instead of turning away from God, he chose faith.

And that choice matters.

Because it would have been easy—under those circumstances—to become bitter, to lose trust, to believe that darkness had the final say.

But he didn’t choose that path.

Through his experiences, his curiosity about the world, and his willingness to seek understanding across different cultures and beliefs, he developed a depth of wisdom that I didn’t have on my own.

And through him, I came to understand my own faith more clearly.

Through his guidance, I became more comfortable in my relationship with God.
Through his example, I saw what it looks like to choose truth—not just believe it.

If I’m being honest, without him, I don’t know that I would be here writing this today.

And that, in itself, is another example of how God works:

Sometimes the opportunity God gives us comes through other people.

As parents, my hope is simple—but it carries a lot of weight.

I hope our children see what I see.

I hope they recognize the wisdom he carries—not just from what he has learned, but from what he has lived.

And I hope they accept that guidance as they grow, instead of allowing other influences to shape their hearts in ways that pull them away from God.

Because the truth is, there are many voices competing for their attention.

And not all of them lead to truth.

My husband often reminds me of something that puts all of this into perspective.

Many of the saints—people we look to as examples of faith—did not live easy lives.

They were rejected.
They were persecuted.
Some were even killed for speaking truth.

Their lives remind us of something we don’t always want to accept:

It is seldom easy to speak truth.

And it is even harder to live it.

Because truth does something uncomfortable.

It exposes.

It challenges.
It requires us to change.

And because of that, many people choose a different path.

It is easier to blend in than to stand out.
Easier to accept what is popular than to hold to what is true.
Easier to avoid conflict than to have conviction.

But every time truth is softened or ignored, it creates space.

Not always in dramatic ways—but gradually.

Quietly.

A shift in what is accepted.
A shift in what is taught.
A shift in what is believed.

And over time, those shifts shape families, communities, and entire cultures.

This is why this matters.

Because God is still giving opportunities—every single day.

Opportunities to:

• stand firm
• speak truth
• guide others
• choose what is right, even when it’s difficult

But those opportunities come with a decision.

Do we stand in truth… or do we step back and let something else take its place?

When I think back to last night—sitting awake, overwhelmed, asking “Why would God allow this?”—I realize now that I was asking the wrong question.

Because I was looking at the situation through fear. Through uncertainty. Through what I thought was best.

But God doesn’t operate within our limited understanding.

What felt like a problem…
was actually an opportunity.

An opportunity for growth.
An opportunity for responsibility.
An opportunity for truth to be lived out—not just spoken.

And not just for the person having the child.

For all of us.

I still feel the weight of it.

I still wrestle with wanting to step in, to fix things, to protect the people I love from making choices that could lead them down the wrong path.

As a mother, that doesn’t go away.

But I am reminded that God gives each of us something powerful—and sometimes difficult:

The ability to choose.

Deuteronomy 30:19

Every day, we are given opportunities to do better.
To move closer to Him.
To align with His truth.

And every day, we can choose otherwise.

Sometimes those wrong choices don’t look wrong at first.
Sometimes they are even disguised as kindness, as acceptance, as “doing what feels right.”

But over time, those choices have direction.

So the question is no longer:

“Why would God allow this?”

The question is:

“What will be chosen in response to it?”

Will we:

• speak truth, even when it’s uncomfortable?
• stand firm, even when it sets us apart?
• guide with love, even when it isn’t received?

Or will we:

• stay silent
• blend in
• accept what we know isn’t right just to keep peace?

Because the truth is, opportunities don’t force change.

They reveal it.

They reveal what we believe.
They reveal what we value.
They reveal whether we are willing to follow God’s truth—or our own understanding.

And maybe that is the point.

Not that every situation will make sense to us.
But that every situation gives us a chance to respond.

To choose truth.
To choose courage.
To choose God.

Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.

God gives the opportunity, but it is our choice to stand in His truth or turn away from it.