Peace in the Absence of Answers

Why ask why?  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yH9KRFlRFI0

Do you remember those silly commercials?  They used to be some of my favorites.  Not because I'm fond of beer ~ I'm not and my virgin lips had never even tasted alcohol at the time those spots first aired ~ but I am a girl who never ceases to ask why.  It's an annoying and exhausting trait; if I'm not asking out of curiosity then I'm asking out of anger. 

Here's a sample of the random, completely unrelated questions that zoom through my mind in any given 10-minute period:  

• Why does Dr. Pepper make me so happy?
• Why does love hurt?
• Why am I so complicated?
• Why do people stop at yield signs but yield at stop signs?
• Why do evil people steal the innocence from children?
• Why, why, why, why, WHY?

Perhaps the endless questions explain why I'm so exhausted all the time!  For some misguided reason part of me has always believed that knowing the answers to all of my questions would bring me peace. I was wrong.  Some answers did bring peace, but many times they brought additional turmoil, heartbreak and even more whys instead. 

Ironically it seems that knowing the answers is sometimes more painful than not knowing them.  Yet, I'm driven to seek them anyway.  However, I've been burned often enough that I've learned to mix the answers with an abundance of grace, peace and wisdom, otherwise the knowledge can overwhelm, confuse and destroy my fragile sense of peace.

If you had a choice between learning why or experiencing peace, which one would you choose?  This is one question that has an easy answer for me.  Instead of torturing myself with the unanswered whys, I'd rather have peace.  That doesn't mean I will ever stop searching for answers, it means I will find a way to live with the difficult ones.  It means I will put my trust in God's wisdom even when the answers don't satisfy my curiosity or sense of justice.  Ultimately that is when I find peace.

Resting in the Mystery

Sometimes I long for the idealism of my youth. Everything was black and white, right or wrong. Shades of gray were unacceptable because I had it all figured out, you know - life, faith, the reason for living, etc. I thought I knew so much! Ummm, yeah. Not any more. Now I really am smarter and know that, well - I know VERY little. And for that I owe all of the credit to God. He has done a stellar job of deconstructing my ideals, and much to my chagrin he constantly escapes the box I try to keep him in. Darn it! If he would just be who I want him to be.... At least I can be thankful for the fact that he is more interesting and gracious and compassionate than how he was presented to me. He is more. He is beyond definition. He is mystery.

The past several years have found me finally resting in the mysteries of faith instead of trying to figure them out. And although there is nothing wrong with ideals and honest questions, for a long time I found myself wrestling with theology, and worrying about whether or not I was a Calvinist or Arminian more than just believing God and taking him at his word. His word became less about him and more about the various doctrines or opinions of others. It was a very limiting and legalistic way to live and view the world, sorely lacking in grace and love.

Now when I'm confused or find myself striving for answers I'll never have, I seek quiet and stillness. He always shows up and makes his presence known to me. He moves me with beauty. He loves me with compassion. He loves me with himself! He delights in calling my name ever so quietly. He speaks to me through his word. He is Immanuel. He is with me. He is. His mystery dances with truth and I no longer try to tear them apart or analyze and dissect them, because God knows I hate it when others do that to me! And as I've I've begun to expose the deep wounds of my heart to his love I've discovered that there is healing and hope, I've discovered that I can rest in his mystery.

"I'd forgotten who I was until I stumbled through my history. I came to life because you were there." Without a Clue, by Matthew Perryman Jones.

"Take me to a place where love can mend these wounds, where mystery can dance with truth, and the broken soul finds refuge......lead me to a place where beauty dwells." Refuge by Matthew Perryman Jones.