A Jar of Questions

As a parent, you are expected to have answers for your children’s questions. Often times we make it up as we go along. And if we don’t know, we simply make it up and then explain why we were wrong at a later date. But what happens when you, as the parent, have more questions than your kids? We expect that as we get older, things will begin to get more clear. “With age, comes wisdom” a saying goes. BS! What I am beginning to realize, as I drift perilously closer to 30, is that very few things in life, go as expected. Instead of gaining more clarity, as we grow older, life becomes much more complex and the picture, a bit murkier.
I say all of this in the context of having lost a parent a month ago and as a person very much struggling to make sense of it all. On most days I’m fine. But on others, I’m overwhelmed with questions that are unanswerable. Why only 53 years? Why while I was away? Why leave my mother lonely? Why the burden on me? Why wont he be there to see my kids get older? Somehow we’ve been convinced that questions are a bad thing. The church tells you not to question GOD. Everything happens according to his plan. Our entire educational system teaches children to never question their teachers. That questioning a teacher’s facts or methods somehow represents disrespect. BS! The questions we have are what fuel our journey through life. GOD may have his plan, but that doesn’t make it any easier for us to cope on this side of the journey. I encourage my students to ask why. Why should they believe me? Because I have a piece of paper that makes me a certified teacher? Any teacher who thinks they have all the answers, is no teacher at all. I learn from my students everyday (many things I never wanted to know) but again, its all a part of the journey.
The permanence of death is what leaves me the most puzzled. I sometimes think to myself, “Oh I haven’t seen my dad in a few days”, and then I remember suddenly the circumstances in which I now live. I know eventually, it’ll sink in. I’m just not sure when. My wife keeps asking me, if I’m okay. I ask myself the same question. I just know that I miss my dad and I wish that he was here. A son is supposed to learn from his father. Ask him questions about life as they both grow older. Stupid questions like how to shave a door or how to change car oil; complex questions about love and faith and the struggles of manhood. I’m not sure where I’ll get those answers from. I just pray that when my sons start asking those questions, I’ll be able to answer them truthfully and with the confidence of knowing that my answers are the right ones.

Proverbs 4: 1-9 speaks of a father’s wisdom;
1 Hear, my children, the instruction of a father, And give attention to know understanding; 2 For I give you good doctrine: Do not forsake my law.
3 When I was my father’s son, Tender and the only one in the sight of my mother,
4 He also taught me, and said to me: “Let your heart retain my words; Keep my commands, and live.
5 Get wisdom! Get understanding! Do not forget, nor turn away from the words of my mouth.
6 Do not forsake her, and she will preserve you; Love her, and she will keep you.
7 Wisdom is the principal thing; Therefore get wisdom. And in all your getting, get understanding.
8 Exalt her, and she will promote you; She will bring you honor, when you embrace her.
9 She will place on your head an ornament of grace; A crown of glory she will deliver to you.”


I pray that God will grant me the wisdom to understand this journey of ours, that I may that wisdom on to my sons, until then I’ll just press forward each day, some better than others, collecting questions, in my jar of life, and hoping that one day I’ll be able to cash them in for some answers.