Who am I? Where am I going? What brought me here? How do we find the answers to life's questions? The simple answer, would be through God and faith, but does life have simple answers?
A look around the world, on one side I see the life lived, my family and friends, the good times and the bad times. Yet what of those who instead of living fully, find themselves merely surviving, no family and no real friends to speak of, the ones whose lives are filled with far more bad times, hard times, lonely times, than any kind of good.
No one to drag them to church on Sunday mornings, no one to tell them they love them, no one to take them to their first baseball game.
No one.
How do I tell a man who was beaten and abused by foster parents from the age of 4 years old, that he is loved by his father. Which father? The one of abandonment or the one of abuse?
How do I tell a teenage girl, 14 years old, pregnant, and doesn't even know the fathers name, that there is hope? Hope for her and hope for her unborn child.
Is there really a way to empathize? Or are we even called to empathy? At the end of the day, we will never know their pain or suffering. We will never wear their scars or carry their haunting memories. We can say we understand, but in our minds we know we never will.
How can I understand why children are starving to death around the world, when I throw away more food from one meal, than some eat for an entire day?
How can I understand when a man roams the streets on a cold dark night, when I know I have a place I can call home?
The questions. The struggles. The burdens. They do have an answer, it may not be always a simple one, but there is one nonetheless.
In one act of love, one act of grace, one act of sacrifice, all these questions and so many more were answered. In the birth and the death. In the cries of an infant, and then the cries of a savior. A world of problems, and lifetimes of pain, all poured into one cup, all emptied into one vessel. He felt the pain, He bore the scars, and He took the suffering.
So I may not understand it fully, you may not either, but what I do understand is that maybe we're asking the wrong questions. Who am I? Where am I going? What brought me here? Instead becomes whose am I? Where is He taking me? Why did He bring me here?
Let's not be afraid to ask questions, let's just hope to ask the right ones, and at least stop long enough to listen for the answers.
The answers are all around me, if I truly open my eyes I will see them. I see that I can't right these wrongs, and that I can't undo the past. Yet I see now, that was never my responsibility. I'm not the answer, but I know the answer, and what's even better? He knows me. He knows you. He knows them. When it is all said and done, maybe that has to be enough.
