Why do we ask questions? Questions help us gather information. When I meet someone new, I like to ask questions to get to know them. Sometimes the questions are flying so fast in my brain that I don’t listen to the answers and other times my brain is so slow that it doesn’t process what’s been said to retain or respond to the information (another awesome effect of Fibromyalgia!). I’ve grown in that area over the past year with concentration and observation. Talking to Nathan and Aaron are at the top of my favorite things to do and I like to gather as much information about their lives as I can, but I have to be careful that I don’t ask too many questions or they get annoyed and the conversation ends. I must choose my questions carefully so I don’t get only ‘yes/no’ answers.
All children ask ‘why’ questions like crazy around age three. Nathan gathered information by asking questions and Aaron was more of an observation and hands-on little guy. When he was young, Nathan’s grandmother had to give him a limit of four questions per topic, so he had to choose carefully. When we answered his questions, we could see the wheels turning in his head while he processed the information. Aaron was inquisitive, but got into things to understand, sometimes it was to learn consequences for getting into things he was told not to. Once he started reading, Nathan gathered much of his information from books and the internet. Aaron likes to be shown how to do things. That was quite the trip down memory lane to get me to my point that I’ve got about a four question limit with the boys. I’ve also learned that when they are giving me information, I need to listen and not ask clarifying questions as that interrupts them. Even when I don’t fully understand when Nathan is telling me about engineering stuff, I need to just listen, because I learn about him.
There is another side to questions that can be hurtful. Questions can cut to the core of your being when they are hurtful, condescending, insulting, questioning your intelligence, embarrassing, used to get information that is passed on as rumors or gossip.I’ll venture to make the statement that everyone has been on both sides of those questions and it is painful. This past year it seems that wires are mixed up in my brain. I make statements or ask questions using the wrong words. It’s frustrating to me when my family questions me by restating what I said when they know what I meant.
John 16:30: “We now we can see that You know all things and that You do not even need to have anyone ask You questions. This makes us believe You came from God.” The disciples were talking to Jesus and it struck me as interesting. Okay, I know that this was right after Jesus told them that He’d been speaking figuratively and that a time was coming when He would speak clearly about His Father, told them the Father loves them because they loved Him, He came to the world by His Father and was going to return to His Father. Jesus had told the disciples and followers these things before. This wasn’t at the start of their three year participation and observation of Jesus’s ministry. They saw Jesus feed the 5,000 with a few loaves of bread and a couple fish, they saw Him walk on water, heal people, talk about being God’s son, the Savior that the prophets of the Old Testament talked about and listened to Him teach. They said this right before Jesus was arrested and crucified. Surely they already knew Jesus was from God. When I think “That must have been frustrating to Jesus, they should have already known that.”, I need to take into account the context of their statement and that I wasn’t there.
What I can do is read the Bible to learn about God, listen to His voice and do what He says. Who am I really that I should question God? He knows what I need and the plans He has for me- the good and the painful, hard, dark and difficult. Maybe our questions get in the way of what God wants to reveal? Where would I be today if I just kept asking God questions, “Why did You do this to me? Why is my body in pain? Why do I live with depression and anxiety? Why did I have to go on disability? Why can’t I just get better so I can go back to my old life? Why do I have to take medicine to function? Why don’t you make my life easy?…” It sounds like such a depressing place to be.
It isn’t my place to question God. He didn’t promise to make my life easy or to protect me from difficult or life changing events. He promises that His ways are best for me and that He loves me so much, He went to the cross for me so I could spend eternity with Him and I live in a fallen world not perfect Eden. I’ve thought and heard others say, “When I get to heaven I am going to ask God this or that.” Personally I think I’m going to be so amazed by His glory that all I will do is praise Him.
God is good all the time. On my knees, with my arms raised to heaven, I say to my LORD and savior, “I love You always no matter what”, because that is the best I can give as a flawed human.
Beauty & Blessings,