Bill Williams faces the problem headon in a mode that I suppose can be called autobiographical-imaginative-theology. Weaving in stories of his own struggle with cystic fibrosis, fictional ruminations of walking and talking with Jesus as a disciple named Nathaniel, and scriptural/theological reflections on the problem of innocent suffering, Williams presents us with a one-of-a-kind meditation on what it means to be a fragile, suffering, frightened, but also occasionally angry, defiant, and hopeful human being. He pulls no punches in the book. At times his anger, his sense of unfairness, is overpowering. At other times, his gratitude for the slightest of blessings, the most trivial (to our jaded eyes) gifts, is equally overpowering. Ultimately, Williams awakens to the suffering God who loves, who knows what it's like to be a broken pot (p. 299), who lost hope in the depts of His suffering, and who still, in a mysterious way that even He, perhaps, doesn't understand, overcame.

There are few books that make me laugh out loud when I read them, and fewer still that make me weep. This one did both. It's not a feel-good book. But it is one that will touch your deepest core, and in the process move you closer, perhaps, to an embrace of the mystery of God and suffering. Bill Williams died shortly after *Naked Before God* was published. I remember him with gratitude each morning in my prayers.