I like having answers. I appreciate the ability to definitively determine whether something is one way or another. And I really like it when conclusions seem obvious, when I can put my finger on what I understand or believe about something.

When we began our Bible Reading Plan this year, although we didn’t head into it with specific themes in mind, I was really looking forward to making connections. We weren’t planning to trace particular topics through the story of Scripture, but I was excited to find some clarity on some things I’ve been thinking through. Looking back over the past several months, I wouldn’t say that’s what happened. It’s possible it’s been something better, or at least the very thing that my heart needed. If you’ve listened to any of the Recap podcasts, you may have noticed that one thing has continually come up in conversation, something to which we keep returning.

Wonder.

So many times throughout this year, after we’ve considered an aspect of God’s character or the way He works, we land on wonder. Wonder about who He is, what He’s done, how He works, why His whole plan revolves around the redemption of wayward humanity.

As we’ve gone through Mark—although we’re only a few chapters in and have barely scratched the surface—I’ve been struck by the wonder of the God-Man. Jesus “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14). Jesus, the second person of the trinity, humbled Himself and became fully man—fully experiencing the pain, the heartache, the trial of humanity here on this broken earth—all the while, fully maintaining His deity. Fully God, fully man.

Time and again, in just these first five chapters, we see the contrast between Jesus’ deity and His humanity and wonder at the way they work together. Mark starts right at the beginning with Jesus’ baptism. Jesus-Man, baptized by the man sent to prepare the way for Him. Jesus-God, acknowledged publicly by His Father as the Son of God. Then the wilderness—Jesus-Man tempted by Satan; Jesus-God resisting Satan’s power. Jesus-God teaches with authority in the synagogue, redefines the law and traditions of the Pharisees, casts out demons (who recognize Him for who He is), heals the sick, calms the storm, brings a little girl back to life, perceives what is in peoples’ hearts, forgives sins. Jesus-Man needs time away from the crowds, spiritual refreshment in the presence of His Father, meals with friends, rest after a long day—so much so that we find Him sound asleep, soaking wet in the stern of a boat in the middle of a terrifying storm.

How is it possible that these things work together? I still love definitive answers, but that’s often not how God works. The things that God, through His Word and His Spirit, teaches me about Himself should drive me to deeper faith in the acknowledgement that I couldn’t possibly ever fully explore or comprehend the depths of who He is and how He works. No matter how hard I try to think through and reason and explain exactly how Jesus could be fully God and fully man, much of it boils down to wonder and faith. Humanity can’t possibly grasp exactly how it works together; our minds don’t work—or even compare to—the way the mind of God works. His foolishness is greater than our wisdom. But here’s the thing—if I could put my finger on it, then God would not be God. If I could understand the things that God understands, then He is not worthy of my worship.

Our inability to perfectly comprehend the wisdom of God is a part of what makes Him God. So we trust that the extent to which He has revealed the inner workings of His deity to us is for our good.

And so we study and read and seek Him to know more. And when we can’t completely wrap our minds around it, we rest in wonder. And we worship.