Virtually homeless and heading who knows where. As of today I have no idea where we’re going to be living in a few months. Yes, relatively speaking, my level of uncertainty barely registers on the comparative anxiety scale. At least I’ve got a job, a home, family, friends, some food, some money.
Nevertheless, I’m starting to feel the squeeze of uncertainty. My brave face is starting to turn into a bit of a pathetic grimace. It was only a few months ago I boldly stated I didn’t really care too much what happened and I genuinely meant it. Now I’m starting to care – just a little. Ok – a lot! My thoughts are slightly more dominated by questions, the evening coffee debrief with my wife is a little more focussed on disquieting themes, and my prayers have a hint of that earnest fixation on a request I’m ever so subtly trying to control.
Uncertainty – that oh so common atmosphere that creeps into all of our lives from time to time. How in the heavens can I call it a blessing!
Granted, it’s hard to find the nuggets of gold in this proverbial coal mine but given my circumstances I’ve been earnestly searching for some kind of gem.
If anything our current circumstances have helped me realize my utter dependence. As much as I try to be the stereotypical man of the house steering my family toward good things I’m really not doing much more than driving the bus through the din with the fog lights on. It’s kind of releasing to know that the bus is being towed all along. I’m completely dependent on the God of the universe who takes consideration of lowly beings such as me and helps guide my life one day at a time.
With that in mind, this time of uncertainty once again reminds me of how ignorant I am of the future. Yes, I said it, I don’t have a clue what’s going on (don’t tell my wife I wrote that – I’ll never live it down). I guess, after all, no matter how scripted our life plan has been we really don’t know where the bends in the road will be. I don’t know I’ll be healthy tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll have any money left at tomorrow’s close. I don’t know I’ll have a job when the sun sets. After all, without any intention of being depressing, I don’t know I’ll have anything at all tomorrow. Reference Job – he didn’t expect the days he faced despite deserving a golden seat in the pantheon of the saints. So what does uncertainty leave me?
It leaves me faith. Not faith in my personal predetermined answer. Not faith in some material benefit that God will give me to help me feel better about my life. Not even faith that God’s going to give me what I want. Just straight up faith that I am completely and totally safe in the plan of God no matter what that is. The beautiful revelation of uncertainty is that it all stems from the distance between the beautiful will of God for my existence and my prideful attempt to define that course for myself. The more uncertainty I feel the more it drives me into the peace of God that rises above my circumstances while working through them to glorify Him.
So I don’t have clue where we’re going to live in a few months and I don’t know if God’s going to give me what I want. But that’s all right because I never seem to get it right on my own anyway. If there’s anything I’ve ever learned in life is that in the middle of my question mark I can trust God to take me exactly where I need to be.