I have two young children with autism. What could they have ever done to deserve that? What kind of a God allows the innocent to suffer? It’s a mystery. Yet still, I believe in God.

The speaker frames a classic problem of theodicy—how to reconcile belief in a good, omnipotent God with the suffering of innocents—through the intimate reality of parenting autistic children. The rhetorical questions reject any notion of suffering as deserved punishment and emphasize moral outrage and bewilderment rather than tidy explanation. The pivot—“It’s a mystery. Yet still, I believe in God.”—marks a stance of faith that persists without resolution, suggesting belief grounded in commitment, experience, or hope rather than in a fully coherent account of divine justice. The quote’s force lies in its refusal to sentimentalize disability while also refusing to abandon faith.