Content Not To Know

My chest tightens; the vessels inside work and constrict, trying to move life through me despite the knot, the pain, despite the fact that my heart aches and burns and cries out. Tears fill my eyes, and I blink them away, doing my best to see the road before me, to keep my wheels between the lines. But how can I see with my eyes what I can’t see with my heart? What my heart feels and knows and experiences.

“Why me? Why us?” Her words echo in my mind. I’ve thought them, too, and I am careful to choose my words, careful not to say what I hate to hear—what is trite, and obvious, and exactly the opposite of what she needs, today.

But what can you say? There’s really no words, none worth expressing, none that can capture the fullness of this pain in my heart, none that translate the tears, now streaming.

Why? I find my voice; it’s a scratch above a whisper, and I ask Him. Why her?

For all that I’ve begged and implored and declared—the hours and hours of presenting my requests to Him, that it not be with her as it is with me, that she not have to walk this journey. I wanted it more for her than I wanted it for me. Because more than anything, I didn’t want her to experience this—the grief, the loss, the disappointment, the pain.

So why? I ask again.

And I hear it quietly—the answer He gives me often, not what I want to hear, but what I know is true:

Not everything is for you to know.

I am ready for it this time, rebuttal in hand. I feel like fighting today.

Fine, but why? This I want to know. Not for me, for her. Why?

Laura, do you believe I have your best interest at heart?

Yes, but –

Do you really believe I am good and what I do is good?

Yes, of course, but we’re talking about—

Do you trust me?

I stop, my answer is slow. You know I do.

Then trust that I have her best interest at heart, too. Trust that everything I do is for her best just as it’s for your best, too. I love her as much as I love you, and I’m not withholding anything from you. 

I’m not holding back my gifts or my blessings. They will come. They just didn’t come today.

My defensiveness flares a little—yes, but why not today?

Because, baby, not everything is for you to know.

I am done arguing. My defense is weak, and I know He is truth. And when I believe it, when I taste and experience and accept His truth, then I am set free.

I am reminded of my words before—do I really believe He is good? Isn’t that at the core of it all because if He is good, then He is good no matter what. He is not good because… He is just good.

My heart wraps the truth around itself, the truth seeping into my veins, pulsing through me. If I’ll really believe that, for me, for her, for all who face this journey, then I can see that He has my best interest at heart. His agenda is for me, so that He gets the glory.

Is it easy? No.

But He is here, and He holds me, and He never leaves me. And can I learn to be content with just that? That He is here, and I am held.