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Questions Without Answers

I made a list this week.

 

It’s entitled, “Things I’d Like To Know But Probably Won’t, Ever.”

 

It includes many deep musings, ponderings, and questions. A few examples:

 

Why does the edge of my phone screen refuse to work?

 

Why am I not good at art?

 

Why do some people get healed and others don’t?

 

Why do people break up with other people for no good reason, even through the relationship is perfectly fine and you’ve been dating for a year and a half and you talk about marriage all the freaking time like it’s going to happen?

 

Hm. 

 

This last question has plagued me for two months, and I never reach a conclusion. My mind just keeps going in circles, trying to figure out what I did wrong or where the relationship went sour or what on earth compelled him to break up with me out of the blue and right before final exam week of our junior year of college. 

 

I come up empty-handed, feeling confused, angry, and bitter. There are no clear answers through the fog of my hurt and resentment. I don’t hear God shouting, speaking, or even whispering from heaven to enlighten me about His will and His glorious plan and purpose to work this situation for my good. There is only the sound of my broken heart beating, my tears falling, and my thoughts echoing, ‘why?’

 

This sucks. I can’t sugarcoat it. I can’t tell you with a straight face that I have felt the peace of God in every moment for the past two months. There are periods of time I feel like strangling someone, like every fiber of my body is on fire because of how angry I am. There are moments when I am empty, hollowed out by episodes of many, many tears and sobs in deep depression and sadness.

 

In these instances I feel anything but peace. I feel betrayed, wounded, like a dog that has been beaten and now slinks into the corner with its tail between its legs.

 

This sucks. There are times of peace. But the majority of the time is spent in aimless wandering, confused and hurt. Especially here, in India, far away from home, the emotions are heightened. Thinking of him and getting kicked in the chest by a metaphorical elephant is not my idea of fun. Trying to minister well to those who are sick and hurting while feeling a pressure in my chest and a knot in my stomach is nearly impossible. The devil needs footholds to work, and I have provided him with the perfect opportunity to claw at my mind in my anger and confusion and doubt. There is a deep, deep wound in me.

 

In all this wrestling, more questions begin to surface:

 

Am I meant to be in a relationship?

 

Is it possible for me to be loved by another human being beyond my shortcomings?

 

Am I worthy of love and affection?

 

Hm.

 

That last one hits me hard, and Satan knows it. I struggle big time with insecurity and self-doubt, and he knows it well. He knows me well. He knows that an event like this can catapult me into the deepest, darkest pit I’ve ever found myself in. He knows my depression better than I know it, because it comes from him and he creates it in me. He knows I tend to retreat into myself and let the darkness consume me, because it’s easier than fighting.

 

But the comforting thing in this struggle is that God knows me infinitely better.

 

He knows me; He knows my heart, He knows my soul and my deepest desires and cravings to be loved and belong. He understands me. And although I may never come to an answer to my questions, I know one thing for sure: I am loved. I am wanted. I am worthy enough in the eyes of God to warrant a death on the cross.

 

Another thing I am learning through this is that we don’t have to be perfect to come to God. I was raised in a Christian culture and household where we dressed up for church. We presented Jesus with a clean, put-together, perfect version of ourselves every Sunday. We brought gifts, worshipped peacefully and harmoniously, and our prayers were eloquently thought out.

 

I am learning that I may need to reject this idea of spotless Christianity.

 

There are many, many times (especially in these past two months) where I feel too dirty to come to God. I am disorganized, furious, bitter, doubtful. My emotions make me feel like I am doing something wrong—I should be feeling peaceful and serene when I approach God, not the opposite. What am I doing? I need to get my act together before I pray. Before I read my Bible. Before I worship.

 

Here is what I wrote in my journal yesterday:

 

“God WANTS us in our mess, in our doubt, in our confusion. He wants to hold us while we cry and He will whisper to us in our most vulnerable moments. He knows our scars that we try to hide and He has seen us in the dirt, trampled by the weight of the world. He must laugh when we dress up for church, as if nice clothes will make us righteous.

 

It’s not our clothes or our prayers that make us righteous—it is GOD and GOD ALONE.

 

He meets us in our mess, in our despair, in our brokenness. He is not appalled by our tears. He holds us and comforts us. He is sovereign and mighty but He cares so much about us that He will give us peace and comfort. If our prayers are choked out through sobs, He patiently listens—and is delighted that we are with Him even in our mess.

 

We don’t have to be perfect to enter into God’s presence. He takes us as we are, tears, scars, questions, and all.

 

The will of God is completely out of my grasp, and all I can do is trust that He is good and will work in all situations for our good. I will wrestle with Him; I will continue to pursue His heart when it hurts and does not make sense and I will bring Him my anger, my confusion, and my doubt. I know my faith can be strengthened by these things, if I take them to Him.

 

I trust You, Lord. Rejection hurts. Confusion is no fun. But I trust that You are good and that You are sovereign. You reign and that is Your job, not mine. Teach me to trust and obey You, sweet Jesus. I want to fling wide my arms and run into Your embrace, my fears and doubts melting like snow met by blistering sun. Hold me, dear Lord—envelop me in Your presence until nothing else matters.”

 

There are questions that cannot be answered in this life. There are emotions that we have to wrestle through that are no fun. But God meets us and knows us. Bring Him your confusion, your questions, your hurt. He wants to dry your tears and listen as you cry. He loves you. So, so much, dear reader. So much. Even though we may never get answers, we get peace in drawing near to our Father.

 

I’m going to Him with my chaos, and I’m going to let Him work. I trust Him. He is good, all the time.

 

“And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7

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