i don't know why things are so hard.
i don't know why that relationship can't work out.
i don't know why you were let go.
i don't know why you got sick.
i don't know why the depression hasn't lifted.
i don't know why you haven't met the right guy for you.
i don't know why you can't get pregnant.
sometimes "i don't know" feels like a cop out and so i try to fill the empty air with reason, hypothesis, quotes, stories...but sometimes heartache, confusion, the interior pangs that ping pong back and forth in our mind can't be met with answers (how vulnerable this is) but rather met with presence.
a gentle nod.
a carrying of the other.
an "i don't know, but i am here."
i don't know why it is this way for you? i don't know why it is this way for me either?
hope is found that i am coming to know. but not on my terms, my short term demands, my reasonings but rather in the vulnerable mystery of how Christ forms himself and makes himself known in me. I don't know? But it's a good in a way I can't begin to comprehend. perhaps awestruck, bewildered, and uncertain is as it should be.
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.
I Corinthians 13:12