Live Forwards

I was driving through Provo last week on a road marked 45 mph. As the road crossed over the freeway, there was a sign indicating that the speed limit was dropping to 35 mph, and underneath there was a sign that said, “Hill Blocks View.” Instantly my thought was, “Wouldn’t that be nice if I could get those signs of explanation for everything in life??”

I love understanding. It took months of having daily headaches but I loved finally getting to the place where I could say whatever I wanted and understand what everyone was saying in Spanish. I recently talked several friend's ears off as we were watching Lord of the Rings because I wanted them to know how each part of the movie was made (it enhances my enjoyment so OBVIOUSLY it would enhance theirs). Going for hikes with me is dangerous because I will inevitably try to tell you how a rock formation came to be. I love listening to people’s stories because the more I know about them, the more I can understand why they are the way that they are. Understanding is safe. Predictable. Clean. Bright.

Unfortunately for me, very few things in life come with an explanation. People certainly don’t come with personal histories attached – we are at the mercy of what they choose to divulge. Natural disasters are impossible to predict. Even things in the work place rarely come with a perfect explanation and set of expectations.

Faith, by its very nature, does not come with perfect understanding. We must have the room to doubt within faith, otherwise it’s not actually faith. As I’ve pondered that sign and my life over the past week, I’ve decided that maybe the lack of explanation makes life . . . better.

If people came with guidebooks, I’d never know the joy of earning someone’s trust. If I understood every task perfectly, I’d never know the satisfaction of working hard to figure something out on my own. Without uncertainty, I would never feel brave.

And most importantly, if God divulged every detail of my life, the reason behind every commandment, the result for every choice, I would have no room to grow. I would never learn to trust and leap. I would not be able to become who I am meant to be. “There are times when we have to step into the darkness in faith, confident that God will place solid ground beneath our feet once we do. And so I accepted gladly, knowing that God would provide.”