My response to the third:
For me, the big question has to do with seeking/finding/encountering ~ being sought by, found, encountered by ~ God.
One of the hallmarks of Ignatian spirituality is that God is in all things.
When I was making the Spiritual Exercises six years ago, I once heard my spiritual director say, in a public talk, "Well, first you have to find God in some things."
I didn't see either statement as much of a problem.
And then Josh died and my experience was of God in no things. My experience was of a silence and emptiness so vast that it seemed that I was falling endlessly into a great abyss, falling and falling and falling, and would continue to fall forever.
I could see that God was plenty available to other people.
Eventually, I began to wander through the new territory in which I found myself in an experiential sense by listening to the spiritual journeys of others. That's how I knew that God was still interested and involved.
I dove into it in an academic sense by continuing with seminary. One of my ordination exam essays involved a hypothetical in which several people were engaged in a discussion with their pastor about whether God is revealed only in Scripture (perhaps a Reformed position), only in Jesus (and, therefore, Scripture ~ a Barthian clarification of the Reformed take), or primarily in nature (certainly a view common among spiritual seekers).
My Catholic friends may wonder why none of the hypothetical conversationalists took the position that God is revealed through tradition. That would be because they were hypothetical Presbyterians.
My answer ~ and we had to address such questions with a theological exposition and then a practical response to the individuals in the scenario ~ covered all of the foregoing as well as Celtic Christianity, contemporary Calvin studies, and the Wesleyan quadrilateral, and was deemed, well, a good deal more than acceptable.
How did I do that in an hour? How at all? I suppose the response has something to do with the fact that I had just completed my second year in seminary over the course of the year and a half immediately subsequent to Josh's death, a year in which I read and discussed and wrote about everything I studied in the context of those questions: Is God in all things? Some things? Any things? How does God reveal God's own self?
Over time and in surprising ways, God's presence ~ to me ~ became profoundly evident. I think now that one of the basic symptoms of grief is Failure to Notice. Kind of like failure to thrive in babies. Not, I would think, a startling revelation.
And now I am more passionately interested than ever in how the Spirit of God sustains and nourishes us, and how we come to recognize and celebrate that engagement of God with us.
Believe it or not, this all has something to do with colors, cities, landscapes, interiors, and clothes.
The fourth question: How do you connect your answers?