I am a mystery, God confesses. I am strange, infinitely strange.
My script of history is quite unfathomable to the human mind and heart. Yet you ought to know one thing: I am not a detached God, residing in the heavens and objectively governing the destiny of each human being the way I see fit.
I am present with you in your anguish. I am in the groan of a beaten slave, the wail of a bereaved mother, the spilled blood of a murdered child.
You are crying? I am weeping with you. You feel crushed? I am crushed with you.
No matter how deep your darkness, I am deeper still. I do not orchestrate human suffering from some distant planet, removed from your existential distress.
I am there with you, suffering with you, sobbing with you, praying for redemption together with you.
Man may never comprehend God's "mind." But let him not think, God tells Moses, that God, who understands the purpose of the pain, gives Himself the luxury of not feeling the intensity of the darkness. Every tear we shed becomes His tear. He may not wipe them away, but He makes them His.
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