A week or so ago I was driving while my YouVersion audio Bible was playing through the book of Numbers. I had just finished painfully listening to two very repetitive chapters listing the census of the entire nation of Israel… tribe by tribe… clan by clan. It was, shall we say, a bit tedious.

Then the Levites were counted—clan by clan. At some point I thought to myself, “Well, this is why it’s called the book of Numbers. Clever.”

Our church is listening through the Bible together in 2026, and I’ve discovered something interesting about hearing Scripture read out loud. When I actually listen to God’s word being read—more like the way the original audience encountered it—things jump out that I’ve never noticed before.

Then I came to came Numbers 4.

I wasn’t expecting much. The chapter contains minute instructions about how to move the tabernacle, the portable worship center Israel constructed at the foot of Mount Sinai. Each Levitical clan had a specific responsibility. The Gershonites carried the fabric walls, tapestries, and coverings; the Merarites carried the wooden structural supports; and the Kohathites carried the sacred objects. The level of precision was impressive. Everything was done in a particular way, and every clan had a specific responsibility.

The process seemed logical enough. When it was time to move, Aaron and his sons would first go into the tabernacle and prepare everything for transport. The Ark of the Covenant and the other sacred objects were wrapped carefully in cloth and covered with durable protective leather. Only after everything was fully covered were the carrying poles inserted.

Then—and only then—the Kohathites could come in and carry them.

But they were given two very clear warnings. They were not allowed to touch the holy things (v. 15) or even look at them (v. 20). Violation of either command meant death.

That’s when I had one of those “whoa, wait… what?” moments.

Think about that.

For roughly 400 years of the tabernacle’s existence until Solomon built the temple, generations of Levites carried the ark and furniture and almost never got to see the holy objects God had entrusted into their care. Their entire calling was to faithfully transport things completely covered from their view.

I kind of struggle with that, and I wonder if they did too.

Wouldn’t you want to take a peek? Wouldn’t you want to see that thing you were carrying? To understand it better? To experience it directly and respond in worship? It doesn’t seem fair. Why would some people get to see the sacred objects while others only get to carry them?

But in a certain way, that’s a burden all of us are called to carry, isn’t it?  There are all kinds of things in our relationship with God that remain a mystery, covered, hidden.

Why does someone else seem to prosper while I struggle financially?

Why has this prayer remained unanswered? Why did this relationship blow up?

Why infertility? Why singleness? Why illness? Why estrangement? Why loss?

All of us carry things we don’t fully understand.

And oh, how we would love to pull back that covering and take a look—to figure out what God is doing. And we would respond in awe and worship… so why not see?

Sometimes God graciously gives us insight. Years later we may see how He was shaping our character, redirecting our lives, or protecting us from something we didn’t see at the time.

But many times the covering remains in place. And God simply asks us to carry what He has given us in trust and obedience.

We live in a culture of instant information. With a few taps on a phone we can find the answer to almost any question. Google. News feeds. ChatGPT. If something puzzles us, we can access an answer. Over time that changes us. We come to expect answers, require them, demand them. We feel entitled to know and know right now.

But discipleship doesn’t work that way.

By design, God rarely gives us the whole explanation. Instead, He invites us into a different kind of relationship—one built not on total understanding, but on trust.

The Kohathites honored the coverings God had placed there. Their obedience did not depend on having all the answers.

And in many ways, neither should ours.

Faith often means carrying something we don’t fully understand. Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is simply keep carrying what God has entrusted to us, trusting that the One who placed it in our hands knows exactly what He is doing.

Maybe that’s the invitation for us today: not to pull back the covering, but to keep walking in obedience.

Lord, give me the faith to carry what I do not understand and the trust to believe that Your purposes are good and ways are perfect, even when they remain hidden from my sight.