There’s this tree that I love.  It stands alone among the lava rocks.  Bent by the wind.  Stunted because of the landscape.  But still, it stands.

Every time we go to Lava Butte, I have to see it.  It’s stark and strong.  And it makes me wonder so many whys.  Like why did that tree find a way to grow when others couldn’t? Why did it end up in the path of a volcano, of destruction, when others, just a hundred yards away, were untouched?  Why it?  Why then?


The thing is, you can drive yourself crazy asking why questions.  Because there might not be a good reason.

Some say we often don’t know the reason why God puts people or experiences in our lives until later.  It’s only in looking back that we can connect the dots.  But what if some dots don’t get connected?  What if some things have no explanation?  No lesson/moral/theme?  What if we only assign them meaning to make sense of the world?  What do we do with that?

While we were driving home from dinner with a friend who has been asking a lot of why questions, I kept thinking of how the older I get, the less I understand.  I’m afraid I was a terrible help, because the only hope I could offer her was that her journey will get easier.  But she’ll never have all the answers.  And that she can only focus on what she can control.

My driving/musing was interrupted by my kids’ backseat fighting.  Snap back to reality (oh there goes gravity).  In my frustration, I decided to drown out their bickering with music.  I rolled the windows down.  Cranked Jon Bellion up.  And miracles of all miracles, it worked.  Not only did they stop fighting, they started singing.  Singing.

We sang at the top of our lungs as we cruised into the neighborhood.  Then we sat in the driveway until the song ended.  The chorus still swirling in my mind, hours later.  The lyrics go like this:

…Although I guess if I knew tomorrow
I guess I wouldn’t need faith
I guess if I never fell, I guess I wouldn’t need grace
I guess if I knew His plans, I guess He wouldn’t be God
So maybe I don’t know, maybe I don’t know
Maybe I don’t know, maybe I don’t know
But maybe that’s okay…


I love that my kids know the words.  I love hearing their innocent voices sing along.  And I wonder if they know the feeling.  Do they understand the meaning behind the melody?

Because the world is full of unanswered questions.  Full of volcanoes.  Lonely trees.  Destruction and growth.  Unconnected dots.  Mystery.

Any maybe we won’t know.
But maybe that’s okay.

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