Life is like a bookcase at times. It holds rows upon rows and shelves full of questions from every area of life. All neatly bound and categorized. Letters forming words engraved on the spine of each book tantalize my spirit and intrigue my brain. The very quest for knowledge delights my soul. Learning, no matter how painful, brings a sparkle to my eye and adds a spring to my step.
That is until the bookcase falls over on me.
A quest for knowledge and understanding in particular issue, lead to more questions, which lead to more questions. (As it usually does!) Taking one book off the shelf drives you to realize you need the previous one to get context, and maybe the companion guide to balance out the first opinion. And so it goes.
Neatly categorized, prepackaged bindings are deceptive. Nothing is isolated to one book. To one question. They all interconnect.
And then – horrors! Some questions can only be answered as the book is written! What, the wisdom is not yet complete?! I can only learn as the story unfolds? Whose bookcase is this anyways that houses unfinished stories? And what Author doesn’t complete a story all at once?
So I sit on my floor under my bookcase with the entire collection of books – all of life’s questions - burying me. Unable to shut off my brain, I’m unable to make the questions that only lead to other questions, to stop. Stop the books from leaping off the shelf and adding to my pile on the floor, as I ravish from one book to the next searching for answers that only lead me to more questions. I weep in the midst of what once brought me joy.
Soon unable to move from the floor, under the weight of the questions, I’m forced to pause because even if I wanted to I could not grab another book. My brain and spirit rebel. The last book teeters and falls from the shelf and hits me off the head. And I remembered. Remembered why my teachers encouraged the pursuit of knowledge, but also cautioned us from time to time, to put some of the books back on the shelf. Closed until certain other books were written or completed. Sometimes we need more of the story before we can answer the questions.
I realized I was the owner of the bookcase that held the unfinished books. Those uncompleted stories were me. Some of the other books had endings but not middles. This was ok too – they were being written as well and somehow my story fit into to middle of the bigger ultimate story in HIStory.
I realized too that He, the Lord, was the ultimate Teacher - the One writing my story. The answers to all my questions were coming. His very character portrayed through all of my books, told me that.
Bouncing off my thick head, the last book fell open before my eyes to Ecclesiastes
"Not only was the Teacher wise, but he also imparted knowledge to the people. He pondered and searched out and set in order many proverbs. The Teacher searched to find just the right words, and what he wrote was upright and true.
The words of the wise are like goads, their collected sayings like firmly embedded nails—given by one shepherd. Be warned, my son, of anything in addition to them.
Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body.
Now all has been heard;
here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God and keep his commandments,
for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
including every hidden thing,
whether it is good or evil." Ecc. 12:9-14
Shrugging the books off of me, joy slowly floods me heart. I gently and thoughtfully close each one and placed it back on the shelf to be taken down - one or two at a time – some other day. Today I need to answer only one question. What is the purpose of this all? The knowledge, and the questions, what are their purpose? The answer is found in the conclusion “Fear God and keep His commands.”
