From the Rig Veda X.121.10.
The One that ignites the unseen
particles, inexhaustible shining
identical to one another,
which procreate, give birth to all
creatures in the universe
by extending stretching expanding
to become whatever designs,
longings and desires of
the implicate order, that must be
the Weaver moving and carrying
this flying-falling treasure of galactic worlds,
the sacrificial ladle reflecting sound
in the tongue-flame within us.
We go through life accepting so much as given. Yet it is perhaps not at all.
We will never know unless we actually grapple with it.
In the end, what you believe must be what resonates in your soul as being truth.
The minute you start the phrase, “God works in mysterious ways,” you are heading down the road to lazy acceptance rather than adult thinking.