I don't have any answers today. It's never really been about answers, anyway. Truth is a mystery; we pick up a few fragments, here and there, but the picture in its entirety is still distorted and incomplete--especially when half the time, the pieces we're trying so desperately to make fit are lies in the first place.
Sometimes, I wish I had all the answers. Looking someone in the face and admitting, "I don't know," feels like admitting defeat.
But most of the time, I'm glad. I'm glad there's always room for deeper explorations and new discoveries. I'm glad that the God who hand-spun the universe doesn't fit inside my brain. I'm glad I don't have to have everything figured out. I'm glad that the gaps in the puzzle can be filled in by faith.
We can't always make sense of it all, these bright bursts of color and light. And I'm learning that it's okay.