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.’

- C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

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