Must I understand it all?
Must I reach around books on shelves, lift edges of carpet rugs, and crane my neck to see high above in order to find what I’m looking for?
What am I looking for?
It is mysterious how I can want something so badly but not hold it within my hands. Why not?
It is mysterious how I can be in one spot, yet desire to be in another that I’ve never been, can’t see, don’t even know about yet. How?
It is mysterious how the darkest days are the ones that actually shed light on the current state of your heart. Why?
“Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful. And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ, for which I am in chains. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should. Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone.”
It’s a mystery. So much of life with no answers, no roadmaps, no neon arrows pointing in a certain direction.
It’s beautiful, though– the mystery. It’s exciting and compelling and liberating.
It’s a mystery that puzzles and satisfies. Causes hunger and contentment. Makes eyes wide and mouths drop. Hands fold and heads bow. All because of the mystery.
It’s the mystery of love and grace and hope and glory.
It’s a thing we think we have a good grasp on, but when the miracles start we realize we have so much more to learn. Much more faith to grow. Much more mystery to uncover.
The greatness is that there’s always more. The well never runs dry. The manna never stops falling. The oil jar never empties. There’s always more.
Proclaiming the mystery isn’t saying, “Let me show you how it’s done.” Or, “This is how you get your life together.”
Proclaiming the mystery says, “Let’s go on this journey of uncovering, unwrapping, and seeking together.” “Come learn forgiveness and freedom with me.”
That’s what proclaiming the mystery looks like.