I am one of those Christians who doesn't think God is enraged when the questions come His way.
One of those Christians who thinks asking, like Mary, "How can this be?" is not an affront.
One of those Christians who wrestles and finds that somehow, God is closer and more dear because of the struggle rather than in spite of it.
But whenever I begin to slide into the place where I kick and scream, I am reminded, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief."
Because so many bits of my life make absolutely no sense.
The rhymes don't quit stick. And the reason? Totally lacking.
And yet, I have no doubt that it's God who does the leading. It's God who has taken me-- us-- to those places where we scratch our heads and say, "Not my will, but Yours."
I wondered greatly what God was doing when I saw those two pink lines. A baby? Now? As our fundraising is finally ramping up? A baby? Really? I'm almost 40 for Pete's sake.
It made no sense. It simply flew in the face of what everyone-- most especially Mr. Blandings and me-- expected God to be doing in our lives right then.
And yet ...
It is this little person, this little soul, this little flash of sunlight from the Lord, that has made some of the darkest moments bright here since his birth. It is this little man who has reminded me, again and again, that God's ways are higher, and better, and more perfect than anything I could have planned.
And I am grateful.