Wednesday, August 29, 2012

I Don't Know


Here's a picture of a dead bird that's hanging in my carport. I first saw it when I left for work two mornings ago while the bird was alive and struggling. (I've blogged previously about dead birds in my carport.) Instead of trying to free the bird myself, which I would have loved to do but which I'm not equipped to do, I called my apartment complex because it's their responsibility to keep up their grounds. Unfortunately, they haven't removed the carcass yet from the carport.

Why do birds get stuck in my carport? Why do doomed little eggs hatch in the middle of the summer? And why the heck has my apartment complex ignored the bird's carcass? In my most recent blog post, I wrote about stuff that's obvious. In today's post, I'll write about stuff that's not-so-obvious.

"We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9)

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." (Isaiah 43:2)

I won't go into details on this public forum, yet I won't sugarcoat it. I went through hell this summer, and I very sincerely mean "hell," but God brought me through it. I wrestled with some things that I had wrestled with in the past, I wrestled with some things that I didn't know I needed to wrestle with, and I just plain wrestled. And God won. And because of Jesus, I won, too (Romans 8:37). While I was struggling, God taught me how to be perplexed. He reinforced for me that some things need to remain a mystery. He taught me one of the sweetest phrases in the entire English language: I don't know.

I'm not saying that God doesn't know. God knows everything. He is all-knowing, period. But my heart -- that extremely sensitive, swoony thing inside me that I need to guard with all diligence (Proverbs 4:23-27) and that has a bad habit of condemning me (1 John 3:20) -- my exhaustedly war-ravaged heart doesn't know everything. But it's been learning how to let go. Perplexedly admitting I don't know helps my heart let go of what I can't control, master, or understand.

On the other hand, I'm not saying that it's wrong to try to understand things or wrestle or even to ask why. I'm reminded from time to time that asking God why isn't always a good idea because He's perfect, He's in control, and He knows what He's doing. But I'm also reminded that I'm God's child (John 1:12-13). If you've ever been around children who feel secure enough to ask you questions, they'll ask you why. I don't think children constantly ask why because they're trying to be rude or offend anybody. They just simply want to know why because they're still trying to figure out how the world works. I also think letting a child trust you enough to answer his or her incessant stream of why questions is something that can delight your heart.


Speaking of delightful, here's a photo of a live animal. This is my cat Choochie hanging out in my sock drawer. (She's closing her adorable little eyes because of the camera flash.) Recently, I've been cleaning out my apartment and throwing away old things that I don't need or want anymore. Because I temporarily removed the top drawer from one of my bureaus so that I could comb through the drawer more effectively -- and I think I had also cleaned out part of my sock drawer at this point -- Choochie was able to climb inside and make herself at home. (My cat Macho tried to hang out there, too, but he's too big to fit comfortably inside the drawer.)

There's something exhilarating about separating myself from something that's been cluttering my life for so long. After I lugged old, holey socks, etc., out to the Dumpster, I didn't even miss them.

Previously, I've blogged about Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick." Sometimes storing old, worn-out desires or dreams inside my heart (especially if they're attached to people who don't want to be in my life in a healthy way) can contribute to spiritual-heart infection. And sometimes cluttering my heart with pain just doesn't leave enough room for awesome stuff to live in there -- like godly dreams, desires, revelations, etc.

I'm not saying that God doesn't want some things to remain in our hearts for years on end. And I'm not saying that it's bad to grieve or to allow your heart to feel pain. In fact, I'm saying quite the contrary, and it would actually be quite another blog topic altogether -- grieving and feeling pain is necessary for spiritual-heart health. Pretending that something doesn't hurt can be damaging at so many levels. Previously, I've also blogged about pouring out your heart to God (Psalm 62:8) -- this is a healthy way for me to maintain my heart.

"Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." (Psalm 37:4)

I would like to give you an example. I'm not a linear thinker -- I'm a vague thinker -- so the informal, unofficial process I'm about to describe isn't exact, and I think sometimes it happens lightning-fast and other times molasses-slow. One way to read Psalm 37:4 is that it lists a formula, right? If I delight myself in the Lord -- if I take delight in Him and let Him make me happy -- then He'll give me my heart's desires, right? I like God a really huge heck of a lot. He makes me extremely happy. So, one huge desire of my heart is to be married to a gorgeous man and have gorgeous babies. I've also previously blogged about my singlehood almost ad nauseam. However, one very huge roadblock to this very huge dream of my heart is, well, I haven't had a date in 18 years. Yes, the last time I was romantically involved with anybody was half my lifetime ago. (No, I respectfully refuse to shop for a husband online.) I've tried pretty much everything I can think of -- from throwing myself at guys to waiting for them to pursue me, from wearing makeup and fancy clothes to skipping the makeup and wearing sweats, from liking only certain types of guys to liking pretty much any Christian bachelor who crosses my path -- and still I got nothin'.

Why?

I don't know.

If I hurt about my lack of husband, I pour out my heart and cry to my God who is my Shepherd, with whom I lack nothing (Psalm 23:1). If I'm angry about my lack of husband, I pour out my heart and maybe yell at my God who is my safe Refuge. If I'm boy-crazy because I have a lack of husband, I find a comfortable spot where I can pour out my heart and talk face-to-face with God who is my Best Friend and be, like, all boy-crazy-swoony with Him.

Then at some point, I'm reminded that I should probably treat my lack of husband as a mystery -- because if it's a formula, then I've somehow failed royally at following it. But if God reminds me that I'm perplexed but not in despair, then I can empty out the spiritual-mucus of my spiritual-heart, avoid infection, move on, let go, and enjoy what God has for me right now. In this way, if I aim for Psalm 37:4, I get to do Psalm 37:3, too. Bonus! Now if my heart isn't obsessing over my lack of gorgeous husband and lack of gorgeous babies, my heart has more room to sincerely rejoice with people who are celebrating a new spouse or a new child. I'm not ignoring my pain -- I'm just pouring out, being perplexed, and letting go. And I don't think there's anything wrong with repeating that process multiple times if necessary. (I'm discovering that I can be a pretty swoony chick.) And singlehood is just one example, of course, of being perplexed.

How can I make room for an adorable little feline to snuggle in my sock drawer if it's too full of old socks that need to be lugged out to the Dumpster?

Why do terrible things happen to nice people while awesome things happen to total jerks?

I don't know.

Why do innocent creatures that live near nice trees end up nesting in and getting trapped in rickety carports that are maintained by apathetic apartment complexes?

I don't know.

Why does God sometimes ask me to do extremely hard things that can result in extreme pain?

I don't know.

Why does pain happen, why does injustice linger, and why does evil lurk in a world that God created and that is inhabited by people who He loves so much -- and why did He sacrifice His Son to redeem the people who inhabit this world, even though they rejected Him, hurt Him, and spat in His face while He did it? And why did He go through with it in the first place if He knew that so freakin' many people wouldn't want anything to do with Him?

I don't know. But I do know the One who knows. And I know that He loves me, wants me, and takes extremely good care of me. And I don't think He minds me being, like, all swoony over Him.