I got stuck.

In my studies, I was trying to make sense of things, trying to make puzzle pieces fit together that didn't even look like they belonged to the same puzzle. It seemed that the more I tried to make sense of things from the Word, the less sense things were making.

My stomach was hurting. I was discouraged.

Then I got a phone call. It was from a lady who really wanted to adopt a child, but the doors were closed to her family.  Like most people that want to adopt, the family had set eyes on a specific child and their hearts had recieved her as one of their own.  But the doors closed. She was heartbroken. So was her family. She wanted me to tell her why God would have opened their hearts to loving this child and then slam the doors shut. Surely the doors weren't *really* shut if their hearts knew so absolutely that this child belonged to them. There had to be another way, another plan. This couldn't be...just it. The end.

I snorted, literally. "You are asking ME?" I asked incredulously. "Me? You think I know what He means by all this after Jumoke?!"

"Well, yes," she said. "I thought because of what you went thru you would know."

I find this one thing in my life very amazing. I can walk thru a dark place, and all it is is dark. I can't think, can't seem to hear the Holy Spirit. I just stumble along, not able to encourage myself nor remind myself of the things of the Lord.

But have someone call me and ask me and my brain is just flooded with scriptures and examples of God's unfathomable character and nature.

So I reminded her of Samuel. His mother begged and cried and grieved for a child. And God finally gave her one, only to have her give her child to the priest for raising. Not only was she not allowed to raise her first born son, but she had to give his raising up to wicked men. Eli's sons were not good male models.

We all know without doubt that God made a family to raise children. A mother and a father. A unit to raise the child in safety and nurturance. There is no doubt at all that this is the perfect unit for a child to grow up in.

But then He broke that rule and sent Samuel to be raised by ungodly priests.

Go figure.

And Mary. If you want to talk about God not considering the emotions of humans, Mary is the ultimate example. Birthed her first born son, watched and pondered his Other-ness as He grew into a man, watched her innocent son die a criminal's death.

Some things are bigger than our feelings. Most things are bigger than our feelings.

And then there is Job. I don't even need to tell the story again. For no reason other than that he was a righteous man, he drew the attention of the accuser.  And for reasons we cannot begin to comprehend, God handed every single thing to do with Job, aside from his life, over to a being that detested God and detested His creation. To a being that detested Job.

I found after this talk that I was greatly encouraged. I hope my friend was as well. But I suspect that the Holy Spirit was speaking to me as well, if not instead, of my friend.

When God begins to make sense to me, I find myself growing uncomfortable. No matter how much of Him fits nicely into whatever box I'm working on, there's always more of God than I can push into the box.

I find myself greatly relieved when I realize there are many more questions about Him than there are answers. That He is much bigger than any theology man comes up with.

Because quite frankly, I don't think I could begin to serve or trust a God that I can understand. There is too much evil and brokenness in this ugly world. Nothing I can understand would begin to cover the evil that touches the life of one real person. Oh, I can talk about it theologically and even maybe sound like I know what I'm talking about. But when it comes to one real person touched by real evil...words cannot comprehend it.

When it comes to goodness, the goodness I can understand simply cannot support the miraculous good I see around me.

The word "Love" cannot encompass what the thing really is.

I am much more comfortable with questions than answers. Because the answers are really mere excuses most of the time. Like Job's comforters, they leave me feeling sad and lost and lonely.

The mystery of God is my comfort.