This is something I wrote this afternoon at Kickapoo with an old-fashioned pen and paper. I'm making myself sit down and post it because I'm keeping far too much stuff in my head.
I do not mean to threaten or disparage anyone else's beliefs with this. I don't know that I believe it all myself, for all that I wrote it in definite terms. This is spiritual, but not in agreement with fundamental doctrine of any religion I know. If you're tetchy about your religion, please just don't read on, because while I'd welcome an honest discussion, I'm in no mood for a fight.
God is finite. His joy in his creation is the joy of existence of the things in it. He chose to make a world much bigger than He could directly wholly control and contain; He did this by creating the conditions from which it sprang, and every now and again tweaking something. We have evolution, and all the suck that comes with it, because this is the only way finite God could have such a big universe. He rarely intervenes because He is spread very thin just to know as much as He can. To focus enough to change one thing would be to let His awareness of other things slip. Thus, we should not resent that He does not answer our prayers. Instead, it is for us to be grateful to take part in his glorious, though flawed, Creation.
The world is not imperfect because sin somehow snuck into the perfect creation of a perfect God who despite being perfect doesn't have the power to cleanse his creation of just the bad stuff. The world is imperfect because God is imperfect; He did what He could with what He had. Maybe He could do better if He wiped the slate clean and started over. The notion that this is the best of all possible worlds depresses me. But I'm glad He's not tired of this Creation yet. There is much to take joy in, far more than enough to be worth the suffering; I prefer existence.