Living With the Questions
I’m not a good question-asker.
An answer-finder, yes. And an answer-giver. I’ll easily spend days and hours to ferret out an answer from somewhere, or better yet, just have one at the ready to give and resolve the thing.
But to ask questions, this is a dangerous enterprise.
Asking questions means not knowing.
And admitting as much.
Never does my relational ineptitude meet its match more than when a question waits to be asked. If you can bear it, you might spend hours with me in the silence wondering if between the wordless opening and closing of my mouth I’ll ever get the thing done.
Asking questions, you see, requires permission.
And I’m rarely quite sure I have it.
Asking Questions for a Living
Question-asking shines the spotlight on my deficiencies in a way that few things can.
As a university journalism student, I perfected what you might call the George Costanza Model of news writing. I found ways to write stories based on interviews that I never really conducted just to avoid having to ask questions.
They were all true, but I didn’t ask a single question.
My reluctance to inquire was no small part of the reason I didn’t ultimately pursue that career. So it seems at least a little ironic that as an adjuster I spend a good part of my professional life asking questions.
I investigate claims — meaning I ask questions all day long.
The reality drove itself home as I sat across from a 12-year-old boy a few days ago. I asked, and he hung his head, mumbling answers with a wavering voice that shrunk further from the digital recorder laying on the table between us with each successive question.
For all the questions I have to ask, I remembered why don’t seem ever to like it any better.
The Questions I Live to Ask
More than the irony that one who hates to ask questions must ask them for a living, I find it curious that my fellowship with God is characterized by more question-answer and question-no answer banter than perhaps anything else.
In The Folly of Prayer, Matt Woodley considers the nature of pondering prayer, reflecting on Mary following the birth of Jesus. She’s not only seen the fulfillment of an angelic proclamation, but she’s about to hear Simeon prophesy that “a sword will pierce your own soul too.” (Luke 2:35) In response to all that was happening around her, she “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (Luke 2:19)
Mary was surrounded by marvelous, world-changing events. God was working and revealing the beauty of His redemptive love for the world. But God was also at work in her life. What does it all mean? How is God speaking to and through Mary’s life? As Mary treasures these things in her heart and she ponders them all, God doesn’t give her quick answers or easy resolutions. Instead, she learns to live with the questions, dwelling in God’s presence, making connections between her life and God’s grand plan, remaining open and alert and attentive before God. God is certainly up to something beautiful, and Mary wants to stay awake for it. (The Folly of Prayer, p. 136)
Pondering is what I find myself doing more and more, wrestling the questions of life and of His Word and how they cross and weave and come together.
It’s a process that takes time and space. Rushing God to give me a quick answer doesn’t work for me anymore. Really, it never did. But I’m seeing that now, perhaps finding that Michael Card was on to something when he asked, Is it true that questions always tell us more than answers ever will?
What “works” is letting the tension of unanswered questions sit. Letting the Word speak slowly. While he’s quick to point out that pondering prayer has no formula, he also sketches out the general pattern:
The questions lead to tension, then tension compels us to ponder our prayers before God, and then we are led to action. (p. 138)
Ultimately, I’m learning to live with the questions. Even grow comfortable asking them.
Especially when I don’t already have an answer.
::
Here’s a question for you: How do you make space to let God speak slowly through the questions?
Photo: Good Morning by Dmitri Castrique Posted as part of an ongoing series drawn from Matt Woodley's The Folly of Prayer: Practicing the Presence and Absence of God. You can read related posts here.
Thank you Lyla for reminding us to learn “to live with the questions”…to quiet our hearts, “stay awake” and wait for GOD…
2010/09/01 at 8:22 AM
Beautiful!
Your words leave me speechless today…
<3
2010/09/01 at 9:00 AM
I am just going to keep that photo in my head today… I. love. it.
And your writing… it is good too. You know me, don’t you?
2010/09/01 at 10:56 AM
For most of my Christian life I was all about “answers”. I loved apologetics, loved the inquiry, loved the fight.
Now, I’m cool with questions, even doubt. I like to wonder why — it’s part of the wonderful mystery
2010/09/01 at 12:16 PM
This is so interesting Lyla. I come at it from the opposite direction and end up in the same place. I am a questioner – much to the dismay of those closest to me! It has been so difficult for me to ask heartfelt questions of the Lord only to be greeted by silence. I am learning to live without quick answers – or perhaps even no answers at all. For me, it is an issue of trust. I know He has the answers; He is asking me to trust Him even when He doesn’t choose to reveal them.
Beautifully written Lyla!
2010/09/01 at 4:25 PM
Connie & Julie, thanks!
Kelly, I can’t take the photos. But I can find them.
David, I’ve come to really cherish the mystery. The more I think I can “get” it, the smaller my view of God gets. The more I can just sit with the mystery, the bigger it gets. I like it better when God is bigger.
Linda, the willingness to step away from “quick answers” is so huge, I think. I make quick decisions and answer questions far too quickly. I’m learning too to just let it sit, even if it’s unresolved. For a while or forever. Being able to do that does mean we have to trust Him with it. I’m so glad you pointed that out!
2010/09/01 at 10:25 PM
I think you ask pretty darn good questions. What’s more, you make me start asking them too!
2010/09/01 at 10:29 PM
Thanks Laura. I still don’t like asking… Usually involves a lot of ducking when I do.
2010/09/02 at 8:44 PM
This is the mystery of our faith. We can not possibly know the answers, they don’t exist in this life. It is so true – that the questioning and the pondering is where we grow, find our faith – isn’t that the definition of faith? To believe but not see? I think your point about living with the tension is an excellent one.
I have made space through sitting quietly, meditating, journaling, blogging – it all goes to the asking, the listening, the sitting with an insight or nothingness. It’s okay, either way. God is still present.
BTW, I used to make my living asking questions too – as a management consultant. It’s actually a pretty good skill to develop! The listening is as important as the asking.
2010/09/02 at 5:21 AM
Brad, I think that the writing process has done more for me learning to get comfortable just sitting with it than any other single thing (well, besides God’s Spirit working me there, that is). It’s a wonderful way to make space for the tension, and the growing that comes out of that.
2010/09/02 at 8:45 PM
what Bradley said.
except I ‘m not a management consultant
I love the look here.
I need to do some housekeeping.
and I truly truly appreciate your every word to me.
I feel like such a beginner in all things word and photo and “church”
But not in life. Maybe it’s working itself out a bit. It is no small thing to have support . To feel there is a community . Thank you for being you, there, here.
2010/09/02 at 12:46 PM
Yeah, what Bradley said was good.
You wear your beginnings well. I appreciate being a part of your world, Deb. Thank you.
2010/09/02 at 8:48 PM
How neat is that–pondering prayer. My brow furrows with them quite often, but I never considered that prayer. Yet, it’s me trying (through the Spirit) to figure out the intricacies of God. Yesterday, I hit one I’d never thought of before–where does our faith come from, that faith that leads to salvation? One of those gray tightropes of trust in God there.
2010/09/03 at 12:19 AM