One of the reasons I love reading so much is because I love to learn. I love new ideas, insights and understanding. I love to exercise my mind. (I often refer to the theoretical texts that I read as my “mental gymnastics.” I thoroughly enjoy content that stretches my capacity.) In theory, there’s nothing wrong with a thirst and a quest for knowledge. Until, of course, it becomes a problem. Until it becomes obsession or addiction, motivated by fear or some other self-protecting, self-serving emotion and morphs into idolatry: an adoration of wisdom and knowledge that supersedes the heart’s surrender to faith.
I have been guilty of this form of idolatry on many occasions, in multiple seasons of my life. It’s often instigated by challenging circumstances, the kind that trigger fear and that all-too-familiar, broken-hearted “why God?” question. The “how could you let this happen?” and “why does it look like this?” moments in my life have been a surefire sign that I’m on the hunt for solutions, for answers and not greater faith. When the world doesn’t make sense around me, I default to desperate attempts to understand instead of resting in the security of God’s loving hands. Understanding becomes my safety, not Him.
I don’t think I’m alone in this struggle. For example, the cliché saying, “everything happens for a reason” (a lie, by the way, but we’ll get back to that later) comes out of our obsession to understand. We are meaning-makers: our brains are hard-wired to do it. Brains catalog and store memory and information through the attachment of meaning to events and people we encounter. Our life events, the people and our interactions with them, must make sense for our brains to store the information. Which means, when things or people don’t make sense, we immediately search for some form of explanation to resettle and rectify our lack of comprehension. (This is also why we are so susceptible to believing lies … but that’s a topic for another day.)
We need life to make sense. We need explanations for things that either confirm or comfortably expand our current paradigms. Go back to the “everything happens for a reason” statement. We pacify ourselves with this saying because we cannot bridge the tension between believing in a sovereign God but also experiencing trials and injustices in life that we know no good God would initiate or support. As a result, we tell ourselves there must be a reason we don’t know about and receive the circumstances as part of His will, when they aren’t always. The truth is, God is good and there is no evil in His nature.[1] In addition, He gave man both free-will and dominion over the earth. He neither controls nor initiates everything that goes on. Scripture promises that He “causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose,”[2] but not that He is responsible for all things. So no, not everything that happens in life is God-ordained nor is there a Divine reason behind everything. But His goodness is present; His grace, love, and mercy are available in everything—in every situation.[3] To access Him in this way, though, will require that we first lay down our need to understand.[4]
In her autobiography The Hiding Place, Corrie Ten Boom describes a beautiful example of letting go of the need to understand. She reveals a simple exchange between her young self and her father that exemplifies this idea to such a profound degree, it stuck to me like glue. Corrie introduces the story by describing a situation in school, where during a reading assignment she came across the word “sexsin” and felt deeply embarrassed. She was too embarrassed, in fact, to ask her teacher about the meaning of the word. Instead, on a train trip with her father to pick up parts for the clock store, she posed the question to him. She writes:
… I suddenly asked, “Father, what is sexsin?”
He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case from the rack over our heads, and set it on the floor.
“Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?” he said.
I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
“It’s too heavy,” I said.
“Yes,” he said, “And it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It’s the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.”
pg. 42
Just like Corrie’s father, our Father in heaven does not burden us with understanding too heavy to carry. I recently heard Pastor and Translator Brian Simmons share that our obsession to understand God is akin to saying that we want to “drink the ocean.” We just don’t have the capacity for it. It isn’t always possible to understand or to attach meaning to life’s experiences in a way that makes sense to our finite, limited brains.
Thankfully, our inability to comprehend all things doesn’t mean we’re doomed to live frustrated and confused or passively resigned. Corrie echoes Philippians 4:7 in her response to her father. She writes:
And I was satisfied. More than satisfied—wonderfully at peace. There were answers to this and all my hard questions—for now I was content to leave them in my father’s keeping.
pg. 42
Peace is the antidote promised and given by our loving Father, who keeps all things in His care.
One day there will be answers to all the hard questions life asks. But until that day, the instruction and promise of heaven is this:
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7
The ‘peace’ promised in this verse is the Greek word Eirene and the Hebrew word Shalom. This word is rich with application, too rich for me to rightly do it justice here. However, some of the beautiful meanings include: reconciliation with God that brings tranquility and a sense of Divine favor, harmony,[5] wholeness, wellness, completeness, secure, to be victorious, restful.[6] When we receive peace, we don’t just surpass comprehension, we transcend our need for it because we understand that we are whole, secure, and positioned for favor and victory through Him.
The pursuit of peace is slowly but surely becoming my default. The more I learn, the more I realize how little I truly know or understand. As a result, peace gives me the courage I need to keep moving forward and believing for goodness and justice in my life. And peace stirs my wonder. Instead of asking the question, “why God?”, I find myself saying, with a heart of curiosity and excitement, “I can’t wait to see how You turn this for my good!”
[1] Psalms 92:15
[2] Romans 8:28
[3] Hebrews 13:5-6
[4] Hebrews 11:6
[5] Zodhiates, Spiros. Hebrew-Greek Key Word Study Bible: Key Insights into God’s Word: NASB, New American Standard Bible. AMG Publishers, 2008.
[6] The Passion Translation, Footnote at Psalms 34:14
This is so beautiful. I absolutely love the purity in the trust she had in her father. She didn’t question him further, she rested in his response. Love ❤️
Incredibly good Jackie!! Probably my new favorite! I read The Hiding Place eons ago, and likely I was too young to realize the profound value of her father’s words. Thank you, again, for touching my heart and stimulating my mind to think about difficult concepts in a different way.
Thank you mom! I think your experience with the book at a different time in your life really highlights the way our brains catalog info based on meaning. There were probably all sorts of other interesting things in the book you took away (it’s fully loaded), because they meant more to you at the time. Such a great example of how it works!
Not only is this blog amazing, Corrie’s dad is a genius and I will be adding that example to my parenting shelf!
The trust and care between them is so beautiful. I’m with you Jess-parenting goals!!