My Crutch

It doesn’t seem as though life has gone just as I had always imagined it. Things are much more obscure, muddled, and convoluted than I could have ever predicted. The clearly defined black-and-white edges between right and wrong, good and evil, up and down just seem to blend together. God’s art just seems to be so incomprehensible to the layman’s eye, like a jumbled puzzle with no box to reference. It seems that man’s constant torment is his ability to question why, when no resolute answer exists. Just as Sisyphus pushes his boulder up the hill only for it to roll back down, we continually question the cosmos only to be met with more questions, instead of answers. What mind can possibly wrap its head around the idea of a God who loves, gives, and heals? What man can truly understand a God of three, and those three as one? Is faith the answer, or do we use faith as an explanation for the ideas and facets in life we can’t possibly hope to understand?

 

The paradox of existentialism is that for every purpose there is a person, and for every person a purpose, while maintaining that the answers to these questions are not definitive. What seems the solution to a problem today will not necessarily be the resolution to that situation next week. That is the beauty of life: change is constant, and we just can’t keep up. If it appears that I am conflicted in this matter, it is because I am; I hope you are as well. We have an innate attribute that forces us to find a higher purpose in our lives. This is where God’s handiwork comes into play; he’s molded us in just the right way for his purpose, but will you yield?