We bought a toy for our 9-year-old. It’s a strange kind of puzzle next to impossible to solve – like a Rubiks Cube, but not a cube at all – something with many sides and angles. And what did he do?
He became curious about how it worked. He peeled off the colored stickers and picked and pried at the pieces until he had completely disassembled the puzzle.
He deconstructed it if you will.
We could have been upset that he wasn’t happy with the puzzle exactly as we’d handed it to him. Fully assembled.
We could have scolded him for allowing his curiosity to motivate him to pick apart that which seemed to work just fine as it was.
Had we demanded he keep the puzzle intact, as it was when it was nicely packaged, it would probably be collecting dust on a shelf.
Instead, we recognized that if we were genuinely giving him the puzzle, he needed to make it his own. And it was important to him that he understand the inner workings of it all. And that’s okay.
So it lies there, deconstructed, and he’ll go to work reassembling it again. It’s what he’s done with numerous similar puzzles. Perhaps it’s how he was wired. And that’s okay.
Personally, I just want to delight in watching him be him.
In case you missed the metaphor, a lot of people – especially young adults – are deconstructing the puzzle of the faith that was handed down to them from a previous generation.
If you’re one of those who are asking big questions, pulling threads, and picking apart the neatly packaged faith that was handed to you, it’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid that God will get mad at you for exploring the mysteries of your own existence. And you need a faith that has become your own.
If you’re on the other side of the issue and you’re prone to use fear or shame to stop someone else from disassembling their faith to see how it works, hold off on that. Instead, become an encourager and a listener. Value the relationship more than being right.
We’re all seekers. Remaining open, continually, to what God might want to show us is part of walking humble.