If life is a comedy, then why all the tragedy?

A few nights ago Benjamin’s daddy, my Mark, rolled over in bed and touched my hand. He was not yet asleep, but not really awake, either – suspended in that dreamlike state one travels through for a few precious seconds before diving into slumber. “Do you think, when we get there, we’ll ask God all our questions?” he whispered in the dark. “Or will we just say . . . holy, holy, holy . . . just . . . holy holy holy . . . ”

And then we fell asleep. -Carolyn Arends in Living the Questions

Most of the time, I truly believe that our questions won’t matter when we get to heaven. That any questions we have about why the universe is run in a certain way will all fade away in the awesomeness of being in heaven. With God. I believe that our perspective will be so different, and we won’t care about the things that seem so huge and overwhelming here.

Sometimes, though, when good people get sick or die while not-very-nice people live contentedly, I do wonder about things. I wonder why some people’s marriages seem so hard, while others appear to have a fairly easy time of it. I wonder why good parents have kids who go astray.

This weekend was a questioning kind of weekend for me. I have been trying to remind myself that God isn’t threatened by my questions, even if people are. As a friend said earlier this weekend, sometimes the world seems so backwards. And it’s okay to feel that way. We only see a small part of the overall picture. I’m reminding myself of that as I try to move from questions to trust.

Then I discover inside me a space as big
And believe that I’m meant to be filled up
With more than just questions.
– Chris Rice

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