The Why.

Why.

The word touches our lips probably more than any other will in our lifetime. Why this. Why now. Why not. Tell me why.

It falls out of silent, gaping lips; tangled with painful, strangled weeping. It dances from laughing tongues, silly at the irony of life. Sometimes it tumbles through clenched teeth.

There's nothing wrong with asking why. Even Jesus used the word when he was in his dying moments on the cross.

"Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?" He cried. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

Why.

It is a natural part of the human experience to crave reason. To demand the meaning. When we experience pain, we need to quickly define it. Cast the blame. Give it purpose so it doesn't become a black hole that will consume and destroy us. It is a desperate attempt for comfort. And we all do it.

What would happen, though, if we set aside the why. Perhaps not for forever. Instead, for a moment. What if we set aside the why for the sake of grounding ourselves. Getting our footing. Why is shifty. The word tempts us to abandon. If we ask it in our most unstable moments, we are at risk. Why is not wrong. But it is to be handled carefully.

Instead, what if we pause. Close our eyes. Breathe. What if in our ugliest moments, in our deepest aches, we first pause to look at our Creator. What if we had our feet fitted with readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. Peace is grounding. It steadies our shaking limbs. Face to face, we stare into our Creator's eyes. It doesn't mean we say words. Sometimes we're too hurt to say anything at all. But we share a knowing look. We let Him see into our deep and we remind ourselves that He knows it. He's seen it before. He has experienced it.

We breath it in. The peace. We breath it into our lungs and let it absorb into our blood, our tissue, our cells. We wait. The waiting solidifies it, allowing our hearts to engage.

Then.

Then, when we've reminded ourselves who we are, children of the most high God, we begin to ask. When we let ourselves grip onto who He is, we breathe out the why. This time from a different place. Not from anger or hatred or doubt. But from brokenness. Brokenness doesn't bother Him.

He is the Great Repairer.