I’m an engineer by training, a math teacher by trade…I like certainty. It just feels better when life makes sense. When A causes B, which causes C. When I can see and feel God’s hand on my life.
But this week, that just isn’t the case. I’m in the early stages of writing my second book. Last night, I was perusing my old journals looking for my description of my late husband’s spiritual awakening. Without going into the details (because explaining myself would require an entire blog post of its own), I read something that upended half of what I thought understood about my husband’s deep faith. Yet, my reading gave me no answers to replace my mistaken beliefs.
I turned to Google for help, because Google knows everything. However, asking Google to explain my husband’s life’s purpose is like asking a three year old the answer to a differential equation. Completely futile.
Later that day, I received some news about my husband’s family (again–a long story) that was, at least with respect to the world, heartbreaking. Another, even larger, pile of questions with no answers.
David and Job
Public Domain
What do we do when there are more questions than answers? With my mind spinning and my heart a mess, I dropped into silence to be with God. I cried out to God and to my husband’s spirit for help in understanding it all. Then I cried some more because of course my husband had more important places to be at that time than with me and how could I be so selfish?
Lucky for me (and all of us), God is big enough to handle our questions. The Psalms are filled with David’s arguments with God, complaints about life, laments about the state of things, etc. And David wasn’t the only one willing to have a heart-to-heart with God. I related quite a bit to Job last night. Yeah, I hadn’t lost my entire family, cattle, worldly posessions, and health. But, like Job, I had more questions than answers. And though it had only been a few hours, I was tired of it.
Hands in the Ocean
Public Domain
As I meditated, an image (I believe God-given) came to my mind of washing my sand-covered hands in the ocean.
No matter the seeming size of my problems, God is bigger. The love of God can surround and cleanse anything I bring to him. I allowed the metaphorical water to sweep my questions away and relaxed in trust in the arms of a God large enough to carry anything and everything.
Awe
God is the perfect teacher. Whatever we bring to him, he will use for our growth and our good. In my case, I brought a hundred and three questions. He returned me exactly 0 answers.
Instead, he offered me something better: a single, perfect lesson in absolute trust in the divine.
Early on in my sleep last night, I slowly woke to the feeling of being drawn into something immense, powerful, and beautiful–something absolutely perfect. I can’t remember anything specific about this “something,” but woke with an overpowering feeling of awe. At that moment, nothing else mattered. The essence that I glimpsed was so beautiful, so perfect, that my questions simply fell away, meaningless in the face of the essence of “what is”.
Ultimate Trust
Public Domain
Living in the questions, the unknowing, is part of what it means to be human. However, living in the mystery doesn’t have to mean living in suffering. What if, instead of living in a state of angst, we could surrender to the adventure of life?
What if we completely trusted our Maker to ultimately work all things for our good? What if, like a small child out on a walk with a loving parent, we simply held on to God’s hand and enjoyed the journey?
Instead of being the person with the answers, what if it were simply enough to be with “The Answer” and to to know that anything we could ever imagine about God doesn’t even scratch the surface of who He is?
God is beauty and love beyond belief. And that perfect being loves you more than you could ever imagine.
What if, just for today, that were enough?
Leah, You are so right…not having answers is true faith in our God who is far greater than ourselves. We can trust him with the things we do not understand. He is worthy.