It seems like there are questions that define entire periods of our lives.  Where are you planning to go to college? What’s your major? Do you have a job yet?  Have you guys set a date? When’s the baby due?

And lately… “So what are you gonna do?”

How do you answer a question that has no answer?  If you’re me, probably with too much honesty.

“I have no idea.”

Unknowing is an uncomfortable place.  I don’t mind change. In fact, I like it.  I hate endings, but I LOVE beginnings. They’re so new, and clean, and fresh, and untainted. 

They’re full of hope and possibility and future. Yeah, it’s not the change that eats me up. It’s not knowing what the change IS.  Ugh.

People don’t really know what to say, either.  There’s the constant assumption that I’m “staying home,” when really, I’m terrified of that. 

So, I explain that I hope to still work, just “a little less than I do now.” People don’t know what to do with all the uncertainty twisted and braided into that response. 

I’ve met lots of encouragers lately, though. “Good for you.” “You’ll figure it out.” “Something will come your way.” “God will provide.” “Some rest will be good.”

Those come from the people who know what the not knowing feels like.  They’ve found comfort in the uncomfortable, and they’re able to encourage from a place of peace and experience.

I want to be like those people.  I want to look someone else in the face, tell them their uncertainty is no big deal, and believe it with every last ounce of my being.  And why shouldn’t I? Isn’t that when God does his best work?

So maybe here’s where I should start.  Maybe I look someone else in the face, tell them my uncertainty is no big deal, and believe it with every last ounce of my being. 

That’s probably a good place to start.