Q & A

I was that child that always… and I mean, always, asked the infamous question. It is often found coming out of the mouths of toddlers… but I have carried the question throughout my entire life.

Why?

I’m not sure that I inquired as to why the sky was blue or why the grass was green. Those questions didn’t seem worth my time or investigation. Instead, I wanted to know why bad things happened or why hard work did not always pay off. I’m sure my parents were exhausted by the end of the day.

As I grew older, this questioning transitioned into arguing my point. If my parents’ reasoning was illogical, they were going to hear it. “Because I said so” was not an acceptable response for me. Junior high was a bit rocky… especially as I began to think abstractly about life and how things work.

My parents were certain that I would be an attorney… or that my unceasing questioning should at least somehow be put to use. They were so patient with me. Looking back, I think they humored me more than I realized at the time. I’m sure someday, I’ll be on the receiving end of all the questions, and I’ll just smile and brace myself for some interesting years of parenting. And when all else fails, I’ll just ship the little “questioners” off to the grandparents.

This past year, however, I’m discovering that there are many questions I have failed to voice.

At age 24, I think I have some much overdue questions to ask.

Although I was reared within the church—and praise Jesus for that—I am not sure I was ever taught that it was valid and beneficial to pose my favorite inquiry to God.

It was almost as if the question “why?” was directly tied to doubt. And doubt was bad. So although everyone around me was receiving my question, God was not.

But as I’ve experienced the muck and mire that comes along with living on this planet, I have learned that it is impossible to go throughout life without asking God some tough questions.

And furthermore, I’m finding that maybe God has been waiting for me to ask Him about the hard stuff. But instead, I’ve often tried to find my own answers… as if my questions were not worthy of His attention. Maybe I was just supposed to take Him at His Word, and never wonder beyond that.

But I’m not sure that mindset allows for much of a relationship.

I have a handful of close friendships, but none of those relationships were built without inquiry and investment. Our knowledge of and interaction with others is only as deep as we choose to dig. If we never asked each other “why?”—our relationships would be pretty lacking.

One of my biggest struggles is small talk. I can only do it for so long before I want to vomit. That’s a pretty strong dislike, I know. The first month of college was rough… every conversation consisted of “What’s your name and major?” and that was about it. I remember thinking to myself that if this is what it looked like to start over in friendships, I didn’t want any part of it.

Eventually, some of those small talks led to incredible conversations and later, great friendships that God has used to immensely mold and shape my life.

But at some point, there had to be a transition in conversation.

Sometimes, I think I’ve missed that transition in my relationship with God.

I know the facts.

I can recite Scripture up and down.

I know how to pray.

But what I’m finding I’ve often missed is the act of diving deeper into the heart of God.

After all, isn’t that what our questioning does?

It creates an opportunity for us to delve deeper into our relationships. To refuse to settle for small talk and superficial nonsense.

What if God has simply been waiting for me to ask Him some difficult things?

What if He’s been waiting for me to pursue His heart for me? To pursue His heart for the world?

Questioning another demonstrates a desire to take interest in his or her life, thoughts, and dreams.

I think I’ve missed out.

I was recently told that God doesn’t fear our questioning. And actually, questioning in and of itself is not unbelief. Rather, it demonstrates desire to better understand.

And understanding leads to deeper relationships.

I may not always get a black and white answer (I love those), but at least I’ve asked right?

At least then I’ve done my part to build a relationship with God.

A relationship that consists of depth and trust because I’ve taken time to ask Him the hard stuff.

And although I may not always get answers to my questions, I will learn more about the character of my God and get a deeper look into His heart.

And just maybe, the answers I need aren’t really answers at all.

Maybe I just need to open up a deeper conversation with the God Who created my heart and knows it best.

And I would say that’s worth it.

I think it’s time I get back to the art of asking, “Why?”

TRAN[sit]ION

This word is probably my least favorite word in the entire English vernacular. I don't know why. Maybe because I have never understood how to go through this life without getting attached. To people. To places. To phases. And why not? There's a fine balance to be found for one who is not promised tomorrow. 

And that sums up us all.

So why not dive in deeply to the place and hold on tightly to the people who surround us? Why not invest all we have today in order that we may arrive (or not) at tomorrow, leaving the soil around us a richer ground?

But unfortunately, it isn't that simple. 

The problem is this: The ground beneath can shift at any time at all.

No warning signs.

We are torn from the familiar and wonder what happened to the "comforts of yesterday." We try to keep up with the winds of change as we gasp for breath.

"If only life would just stop… just for a moment." I can't keep track of all the moments I have uttered that very phrase. Only if… then we could reconfigure our footing and stand strong once more.

But... what if we just sat down?

What if we just began to sit in the midst of the chaos roaring around us?

It hit me the other day that right smack dab in the middle of "transition" is the word "sit."

Now bear with me. I know it's a stretch.

But what if?

What if we began to just rest and allow our hearts to slow in the process of seemingly constant change? What would life look like?

Now if you're anything like me, you struggle to even wrap your mind around this concept of truly resting--in general… Nonetheless in the center of a swirling vortex of change.

Fair enough.

But hear me out.

Change reminds us that we are not in control. At all. We live with a strikingly false illusion of control. Even in the midst of the utmost mundane in life--we are not the least bit in charge.

Sorry if that rattles your cage.

I know that my world has been shaken by that concept the past few years.

Back to sitting.

I like to remain relatively active but sometimes I challenge myself to simply sit. To take it all in. As my mom says, we all need to take time to "smell the roses." I'm not a pro at that concept, but I'm working on it. And that's what counts, right?

When we are stationary, our vision is able to become more focused. I'm in a season of "blurred vision." Big time. And I can't wait for it to end! But despite my blurry vision, God has begun to enlighten my eyes to not only my stark "smallness" in light of His glory… But also to clarity I would have missed had I not decided to sit in the midst of some pretty drastic storms.

Transition forces us to move forward. It cuts out the possibility of stagnation--the very thing I fear most. Because as much as I despise the challenges that ride on the coat tails of transition, I fear apathy and mediocrity much more so.

As I write this, it is a tough pill to swallow… because I am sensing another round of transition approaching. And I'm going to be stretched and prodded a bit. But what a great reminder of my frailty! What an opportunity to draw closer to the One who IS in control of my every breath. My every heart beat.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not a fan of transition. Much less, choosing to sit in the midst of it.

But it's going to occur either way.

What if I chose to soak in the value it can bring to my heart and mind rather than trying to escape it as quickly as humanly possible?

Because I don't believe God purposes change or transition to make us miserable… but rather to prepare us for future Kingdom work that presently--in the state in which we are--we are not yet best equipped to do.

That's a game-changer for me. It lightens the load and eases the pain of the sudden impact.

So what do you say?

Care to take a seat?