The Big Book of Why (is too heavy to lift.)

Sometimes you come to a place inside your head where you feel terribly small and helpless and forget that God is bigger and better than you.

It hits you at night after the house has fallen silent besides the whir of the fans and the faint breathing sounds, and you are lying there in bed, unable to sleep. In the lonely hours you begin to think about love and loss and all the genocides that have happened that you wish you didn’t know about, and you can’t see that God is really bigger than bombs and heartbreak.

You write a book in your head and it is called “The Book of Why.” It is a huge book. There are several chapters, titled, “But…,” “What?,” “How Come?,” and “How Could You?” Then you stand up in front of God (which is easier to do at this point because you cannot see Him) and insist on reading the book to Him, to see what He will have to say for Himself.

But the book is so hard to lift and your tears are so thick, and God is being so quiet, that you start to think that maybe there is something you don’t know. Even though you know so much, so much you wish you didn’t know, maybe God still knows something you don’t.

So, exhausted from the ordeal, you throw yourself back down among the tangled blankets and try, once more, to sleep.

And God says, I’m glad you wrestled with me.
And you say, But I’m limping.
And God says, It’s ok.
And you say, But it hurts.
And God says, I love you.

And in the morning, you find the twenty pieces of wadded tissue on the floor beside your bed, and your eyes are squinty. But outside it is raining quietly and in the kitchen your mother is making blackberry pies, and you think perhaps it will be alright after all.

Based on a true story.

“Therefore thus says the Lord God, ‘Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone, a tested stone, a costly cornerstone for the foundation, well-placed. He who believes in it will not be disturbed (i.e., in a hurry).'” Isaiah 28:16