Last time I was at the airport, I looked out from the cabin window as the luggage cart pulled up. It came to a stop against the plane as the driver pushed the button for the ramp to raise up. The movements were just right that his full bottle of water sitting at his side fell down through a gap into the abyss of a the ramp’s underside. I wanted to help but there was absolutely no way to do so. This airport driver, maybe in 10 or 100 minutes from now, was going to wonder “what the heck happened to my water?” I had this terrifying thought: what if it hadn’t been a dropped water bottle, but something life or death. Something involving a child. I’d probably be traumatized and imprinted with the experience for years to come: seeing a tragedy go down before my eyes with no means to help.

We often feel like, if there is a God, he’s not paying attention — or he’s sleeping on the job. Or a see-through barrier exists between you and God as your life plays out in difficult and unexpected ways. Sometimes we think we know more than God. Or we give up on God because we can’t hear his voice.

I really don’t know much. I keep having these experiences where I find out more, which makes me realize how little I know. Call it the journey of growing up: “I was so much younger then, I’m older than that now.”

But it’s also a natural progression of someone who knows God. To your great relief, you doubt your own sovereign insight, and begin to rest in a being that is more qualified to possess such things. Maybe God’s seeing all of this stuff, but just knows a ton more about all of it than I do, and so he has different plans than I could imagine. Maybe I can start to trust that.