There was a time when I thought understanding why God allowed certain things to happen would finally bring me peace.

I wanted to understand the pain.

The disappointments.

The seasons that seemed to stretch far longer than I thought I could endure.

I wanted to know why some prayers seemed to take so long to be answered, and why some things had to hurt as much as they did.

Perhaps, in some way, I thought that if I could understand it all, I could finally make peace with it.

But life doesn’t always give us the answers we want.

And God doesn’t always explain Himself to us.

I’ve had seasons where I was angry.

I allowed myself to feel it because I was hurt, and I didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise. I think there are times when we need to be honest about what pain has done to us before we can begin to release it.

But somewhere along the way, I realized something.

The people and circumstances that had caused me pain were no longer the ones carrying it.

I was.

And I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life carrying something that had already taken enough from me.

That realization changed something in me.

I began to understand that letting go doesn’t mean saying that what happened was okay.

It doesn’t mean forgetting.

It doesn’t mean pretending that certain things didn’t matter.

It simply means deciding that they no longer get to live in my heart rent-free.

There are things I may never understand.

Perhaps I don’t need to.

Maybe faith isn’t always about understanding why God allowed us to walk through something.

Maybe sometimes it is simply trusting that He was with us while we were walking through it.

That has been a much quieter kind of faith for me.

I don’t have to make sense of everything anymore.

I don’t have to keep going back to the same places in my mind, wondering what I could have done differently or wishing certain things had never happened.

What happened happened.

And God was there.

He saw every part of it.

He knows the things I understand and the things I don’t.

And somehow, there is peace in finally letting that be enough.

I’ve learned that surrender isn’t giving up.

It is giving over.

Giving God the things I cannot change.

Giving Him the questions I cannot answer.

Giving Him the parts of my story that I still don’t understand.

And trusting that His hands are safer than mine.

There is something freeing about realizing that I don’t have to carry everything simply because I have carried it for a long time.

I can let go.

I can forgive without pretending I wasn’t hurt.

I can remember without continuing to relive.

I can acknowledge what happened without allowing it to become the definition of who I am.

And maybe that is where healing and surrender meet.

Not in finally understanding everything…

but in no longer needing to.

Today, I would rather have peace than an explanation.

I would rather trust God than spend my energy trying to figure out what only He knows.

Some things belong in my hands.

Some things belong in His.

And I am learning the difference.

So I am letting go.

Not because everything suddenly makes sense.

But because I trust the One who sees what I cannot.

And there is something incredibly freeing about finally being able to say:

God, I don’t understand all of it.

But I don’t have to.

You do.

And that’s enough for me.

Until next time,