I’ve felt so strongly that there’s something moving in me that needs to be paired with words, and I have not for the life of me been able to figure it out.
And maybe that resonates with you; The uncertainty in waiting for answers, the discomfort not having clarity brings, the frustration that comes with floating in the mind’s abyss waiting for traction.
We wrestle deeply with the reality that sometimes we don’t get to have immediate answers. We go to great lengths to create answers and solutions (even if we know they’re not the right ones) just so we can feel like the case is closed and we can move on. Not having understanding makes us want to go off the deep end. The alternative is far less desirable: just being. We are skilled do-ers, struggling be-ings.
Why is it that we pine for answers where perhaps there just isn’t one yet? Why do we demand understanding when perhaps it just isn’t the time for it yet? Are we that uncomfortable with the unknown? Is it that debilitating for us that we cannot move forward until we conjure up a solution, reason, or answer, any solution, reason, or answer, even if it’s not a true or right one?
Suppose above all that, I’ve been asking myself the following question for almost a year now: “Is God still good?”
Is God still good even if I don’t have solutions, reasons, or answers? Am I comfortable with God being God even if I don’t know what God is doing? Am I secure enough in him that I can wade in the sea of “I dunno” while the one thing I do know is that something is coming and just isn’t here now?
But how did I get here? How can we ever arrive at a working place of security in the “I don’t know”?
While I cannot answer it for you, I sense that, for myself, security in the unknown has only come from having it proven to me time and time again. God’s faithfulness in and before the aftermath of a season of unknown has never failed. He has never failed to show up. Indeed, there have been seasons where I feel like I’m doing a spiritual tough mudder, only to find that in crossing the finish line and watching the replay reveals I had a partner the whole time. A longtime friend once told me, “Hindsight is always 20/20.” My answers are seldom immediate, my clarity often comes after process, my solutions are rarely comfortable. But he is faithful to bring me to them, every single time.
I’ve been asking on repeat, “What is it you want me to say?” “How do you want me to approach X?” “What is my role in this and here?” Turns out, I’ve been doing nothing but asking questions trying to hear where to land.
Turns out, it may be only this–sharing the I don’t know and all we can do is be. I get how miserable that might sound to both the believer and non-believer. It seems unstable, it’s surely a great risk. Are we willing to wager that God’s faithfulness might actually be better than our curated closures? Might we be willing to step into the arena of unknown in exchange for an introduction to the greatest security we may ever encounter?
Perhaps you’re willing. Perhaps you’re not. But I suppose that’s the whole point of this lengthy string of words. I don’t know. I hope that you do. There is peace to be had even in the unknown.
“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1).
