More than a decade later, I'm still asking why. That's the thing about any good Why question; it doesn't really go away with time. In another ten or twenty years, the question will still make me lift my brow in a failed attempt to increase the surface tension of the liquid around my eyeballs so the tears won't fall. In another decade or two or three or four, this Why question will still be as fresh as warm manure when I think about it.
While the names, situations, and details may differ, I think we all have our Why questions.
Why the abuse?
Why the injustice?
Why the suffering?
Why the silence?
Such questions are a sign that we've stepped in it--the reality that as a part of humanity, we live not just in a fallen world, but in a broken world that stinks.
The more I learn about the Organic God, the more I realize that he does not fear such questions. He does not plug his nose to the stench of humanity. He does not push back. Like an organic farmer, he is able to use the poopy parts of life as rich soil for growing the fruit of the Spirit in us.
I think God welcomes tough questions. The God who asks everything of us invites us to ask anything of him. He answers our questions with questions of his own.
Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?
Is anything too hard for me?
Can you fathom the mysteries of God?
For who has known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him?
God's questions are far more revealing than our own. While our questions reveal our doubt, fear and pain, his questions reveal his strength, wisdom and power. Our questions reveal our desire to pull back. His reveal his plan to move forward. Our questions reveal our finiteness. His reveal his infinite nature. Our questions reveal our limited scope. His reveal his all-encompassing presence.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
I am reading an excellent book right now entitled The Organic God, by Margaret Feinberg. Its main premise is based around removing the additives and fillers from our faith and becoming better acquainted with the true nature of God. Every chapter has been filled with gems, but this last chapter is especially rich. In response to losing someone very dear to her, Ms. Feinberg writes: