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In many ways, most of our lives are spent asking questions that don't really matter anyway. In some cases, the questions we ask are really evidence of a much greater pursuit. It's being able to see in our experiences the value of being alive. It's being able to confidently assert that we are here for more than just the fleeting moments of time. Rather than reflecting our true intent, our questions often reflect a much deeper discussion. One that we must have a great deal of courage to have.

In John 3, Nicodemus approached Jesus at night to ask some questions. Many have tried to unpack his reasoning for coming at night. Some say out of fear, others say out of respect. I say because that's when he was supposed to. He comes to Jesus and asks him who he is. Now he covers the question by saying:

"Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him.”

It's an interesting way of asking a question - the art of asking a question without the use of interrogatives. It assumes that more was being said than what is read. Perhaps it was in his tone of voice or maybe in his demeanor, but in essence Nicodemus is asking a question that his friends would not. Who are you?

And isn't that the question after all? Jesus, who are you? Lots of people say lots of things, but I just want your answer. Because that really does color everything in light of my questions. If you prove to be something I really don't about, then I need to know what that means for me. If you are someone who will change me, how should that look for me?

I have always been enamored by Jesus' response to people. At various times, Jesus is seen as avoiding them, embracing them, annoying them, and even reprimanding them. You get the sense that Jesus spent most of his time answering questions that really came back to Nicodemus' - Who are You?

Hindsight

^{Genesis 45:4-7 (NIV)}

⁴ Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come close to me.” When they had done so, he said, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! ⁵ And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. ⁶ For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will not be plowing and reaping. ⁷ But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance

Whether we intend it or not, a great deal of our lives are spent looking backward. Trying to answer some of life’s questions can be overwhelming. Sometimes even debilitating.

What if I had taken that job?

What if I had never walked into that restaurant?

Would things have been different if I had married someone else?

Regardless of our current situation, many will consistently struggle against the urge to wax poetic about yesterday’s choices, while contending we are what we are because of those choices. In other cases, the choices to make are thrust upon us from outside of our particular realm of experience, leaving us reeling from impact.

The car veers into our lane.

He just came out of nowhere and caught me unsuspecting.

The wind picked up and took my house with it.

Sometimes life throws the curve ball that not only changes the moment, but likely changes the entire scheme of life. As such, many of us are left without any sense of reason as to why. Left only to the necessary situation, we find ourselves to be like Joseph. When his brothers return for more food and leave for home, Joseph makes sure that they must come back quickly- by force. It was by design that these brothers would stand before Joseph, hat in hand begging for pardon. However, the response they get is one they never expected and one I suspect Joseph never intended to offer.

Isn’t that case with most of our lives. I cannot go back to many moments in my life that were not influenced by the moments that preceded them. Every turn, every decision, whether wittingly or not has found itself to be the source or at least the directive that sent me forward into where I am now. Each moment, good or bad, has possessed in it what theologians call “providence.” Providence relates to what God both plans and orchestrates in the lives of his created order. Some have argued unfavorably towards pre-determinism (which robs people of the creative genius given by God); whereas, others have contended that God’s plan is altered by the petitions or desires of His people. In either case, it is God who ultimately determines whether to change or not. Yet it is true that much of what I face, I tend to go towards of my own volition.

I have not come to a conclusive decision as to the reasoning, but I am confident of one thing, I am where I am based the varied moments of my life. I could argue that some are random and some are fixed; yet, I seem more confident that they are here because of providence. Like Joseph, my life is in the care of my God. I am a participant. I am a contributor. And I am recipient and hindsight affords me the opportunity to see it happening.

Sometimes there are no words

^{Genesis 43:29-30 NIV}

²⁹ As he looked about and saw his brother Benjamin, his own mother’s son, he asked, “Is this your youngest brother, the one you told me about?” And he said, “God be gracious to you, my son.” ³⁰ Deeply moved at the sight of his brother, Joseph hurried out and looked for a place to weep. He went into his private room and wept there.

Sometimes the greatest struggles we face are internal. They show up when we think we have conquered our fears. They surface when life seems to present the possibility of hope. Other times when we think we can handle no more, a wound is reopened and the pain is astonishing. The story of Joseph and his brothers is one of those moments.

Hated, betrayed, and abandoned to the Ishmaelites, Joseph's road to Egypt was filled with tragedy. Around every turn was another temptation or challenge. As he conquered one, another one surfaced. Finally as the road ended in Egypt, Joseph was vindicated by being given a role of high authority in Pharaoh's house. Enter his brothers. A famine had swept Egypt and threatened to kill a majority of its inhabitants. Jacob-Joseph's father- had sent 10 of his sons to Egypt to get food. Unbeknownst to them, they stood before their brother Joseph, whom they had sold into slavery several years before. Joseph was being called upon to literally save his family. Which left him in such a quandary.

Most of life is like this. There is absolutely no question that we are all wounded. Someone somewhere has done something that has scarred us. And we have moved forward, we have advanced, and yet it only takes a moment to tear the wound wide open again. Maybe its a party or an email. Maybe a phone call or a movie. Whatever it is it takes us by storm and in the midst of our agony all we can do is escape to a "private room and weep there."

There is no shame. There is no offense. You must do it. Nothing heals the wounded soul, like the salt of tears. So cry if you must. Steal away and find solace in the arms of a Savior who loves you so much. Who understands the impact of wounds inflicted by loved ones. But who has learned the truth about forgiveness. May you find peace there.

Soli Deo Gloria