I was going to post something funny and lighthearted about the dangers of being a youngest child, but honestly, I am so tired right now, I don’t have the mental capacity to be engaging.
By now, you should probably know what that means.
Guys, buckle down for another 2 AM talk with Sarah. What follows is (mostly, with a bit of editing) straight from the pages of my journal, recorded in the deep reaches of the night.
(Please note that I do not keep a journal, and therefore, this is probably my first and only attempt at one. Until the next time I can’t sleep.)
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about faith and logic, and how the two intertwine. Because frankly?
According to the Meyers-Briggs personality test, I am an INTJ, one of the most logically capable personalities of the sixteen types. So I feel pretty qualified to say that faith is a hard concept for logic to grasp.
I’m constantly told things such as, “God is good” or, “God loves us.” But my little analytical brain looks at the world around me, and as I study it, comparing what I see to what I’ve been taught, my logic starts to kick in. I see things that don’t make sense. Pain. Suffering. Innumerable struggles, in my own life and others. I don’t want to doubt God, but I can’t help but find myself asking…
Why, God? Why am I supposed to believe that you are good, when you let such terrible things happen? Why do you say that you love us, yet ask us to suffer so much for your sake? How can I trust you, when nothing seems to make sense? I don’t understand it. I don’t understand this.
I don’t understand You.
I grapple for answers, some reason to this ‘why’. But all I find is how small my mind is, how fallible my logic. I feel… finite. And I hate it. I hate this incapability to understand. I hate that my mind is too small, and I hate that no one can answer my questions. I’m not satisfied with the wishy-washy things people tell me: “You just have to trust Him, Sarah. God is good.”
That doesn’t answer my question.
I want to KNOW.
I want to know that God is good, not just be told. I want it to be spelled out in black and white letters: “God is good, here’s why.” I want someone to explain to me exactly why the world is the way it is, and why he lets it continue that way.
But maybe that’s where faith comes in.
I always thought of faith in a physical light; you pray for a thing with faith that God will make it so, and God makes the thing so. You pray that you get a sword for your birthday, and you get a sword for your birthday. (Please note that I didn’t do this. I’m not that shallow.) You pray for the mountain to move, and it does.
But what if that’s not all?
Is faith trusting that God is good, even if we can’t always see it?
Is faith believing that God loves us, even when we have to endure hardship for his sake?
Is faith laying down my tiny sense of logic—what makes and doesn’t make sense to me—because God’s plan is so massive, so unfathomably vast, that my logic can’t even comprehend it?
Faith is letting go of the “why?” and instead saying, “I don’t need to know.”
Some things cannot be spelled out in black and white. Some things have no mortal answer. Some things go beyond our finite logic.
As you do not know what is the way of the wind,
Or how the bones grow in the womb of her who is with child,
So you do not know the works of God who makes everything.
Sometimes, we have to let go of our desire to know everything and say, “Okay, God, I may not understand this, but I know that you are bigger than me, and your plan is perfect.”
I don’t know why you do what you do, but I know you do it for a reason. I don’t always have to understand. I don’t need to.
That’s what faith is.
*dejected sigh* This doesn’t half sum up the magnitude of my spiritual discovery, but I can’t seem to grasp the right words. Now you guys know why I never get any sleep.
Anyway. Go forth and do whatever it is you do on a Thursday.