“When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of ‘No answer.’ It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, ‘Peace, child; you don’t understand.’I’m sure well over half my questions have been unanswerable.
Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask-- half our great theological and metaphysical problems are like that.” - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, 86-87.
“Peace, child; you don’t understand” is an answer I’m sure I’ve received many times.
The problem is living at peace with that, patiently awaiting the day when the glass will no longer be lit so dimly.