Impossible Questions

There is a place deep in my heart that yearns to know the goodness of my Father. There is a place much closer to the surface (in daily life) where I doubt that a good God could even exist.

How can I know something so deep in my heart yet choose to live from fear? How can I question this God who in order to do good by me did bad to Himself? This God, who rather than settling for my first and second and third choices decided that it was worth His Son suffering and dying and being separated from Him to give me a fourth choice (or four-hundredth). How can this God be anything other than good?

This God calls me by name and knows the deepest parts of my heart and most intricate pieces of my design. He sets a table for me in the midst of my enemies (fear and death). He ever serves and never needs. How can a God like this ever go against me? The one who made superfluous billions of galaxies so that when I looked up at the sky at night I would be unable to comprehend what I saw. He made fields full of flowers for me to rest in and a sunrise to wake me up every morning. He created marriage and relationship and intimacy. This God can’t betray me or hang me out to dry. His heart has to be only for me.

Yet I’m faced with a difficult choice. I can spend my life asking questions about cancer and war or I can spend my life asking the questions that leave me in awe of my good Papa.

I’ll choose the latter. Not because I can’t answer the former (although I certainly can’t) but because if I’m going to live a life of impossible questions I will choose to live a life of awe, not of doubt and fear.