How’s it going? I know that’s a silly question ‘cause you won’t tell me. You won’t tell me anything. That’s just how you are. Secretive and sketch.
Do you like being a huge question mark? Is it enjoyable to you to watch people squirm and wonder? What would be the harm in letting us know what’s going to happen? Letting us see that what seems so scary and dark will actually turn out okay?
I see you in lots of places. The new job. The weird freckle I just noticed. The money I just put down on a used car. You seem to accompany so many things that are part of life from getting a new haircut to committing to a new class to facing the biggest unknown of all—death.
Fear of you might be the quickest excuse I offer to explain why I don’t do stuff.
I don’t know how that person will react if I talk to them, so I just won’t say anything.
I don’t know if that publisher will like my book, so I won’t bother sending it to them.
I don’t know if I’ll get the job, so I won’t send my resume.
If I knew for sure all of that stuff would work out for me, then I wouldn’t see my efforts as a waste of time or fruitless, but since I don’t know, I don’t move.
I blame my immobility on you, you know. If you weren’t so big and unknowable, I’d be taking all kinds of risks. I’d be trying new things, meeting new people.
Sometimes it seems like you leave me no choice, but to sit still, worry, and wait until I can see past your big form.
But maybe that’s not true….maybe there is another choice…
It’s called FAITH.
Have you ever heard of it?
Not just faith alone, but faith in someone who knows more than you do and who loves me very much.
It kind of makes you not seem so big and scary.
It’s being sure of all that stuff I can’t see and certain of all that I hope for.
With faith, I can know that no matter what happens I’ll be okay.
With faith, I can face the bleak unknown and even see past it to something better.
With faith, my heart is no longer the dance floor for worry and unrest, but a resting place for hope and joy and peace.
As long as I’m walking with faith, I’m okay with you, Mr. Great Big Unknown.
I actually appreciate you. You make the journey more of an adventure and less of a sitting-still ho-humness.
I not only appreciate you, but I kind of like that I don’t know what tomorrow holds.
It makes me smile ‘cause although I don’t know what tomorrow holds, I do know who holds tomorrow. And he’s much bigger than you can ever even hope to be.
So thanks for being there. We might just be able to be friends after all.