Standing at the Door of the Unknown

I’ve never been good with the unknowns of life, which is funny considering how much of life and faith is unknown. The certainty is actually what’s dangerous for us. It’s in those places of being so certain that we forget to rely on God because we think we can do it ourselves. But in our uncertainty we learn to listen for God, partially out of pure selfishness because we want to know what comes next, but also because we know that his way is the best way. He’s the only thing that’s certain, even though he’s also a mystery.

Standing at the Door of the Unknown

I often fall apart with the uncertainties and mysteries of life. When I’m standing at the door of the next season unsure of what to do with it—do I knock, ring the doorbell, or walk away?—the uncertainty feels dangerous. It brings forth questions and feelings I didn’t even know were living inside of me. My pattern of running from uncertainty has a pretty good track record.

But this time, as I stand at that door, it’s different. The unknown isn’t leaving knots in my stomach or pain in my chest. It isn’t causing anxiety or making me question everything I’ve ever done. It just is. And sometimes, just letting the uncertainty exist without having to define every little thing in life is freeing. 

I don’t need to know what comes next just yet because I’m living fully in this present moment. I don’t need to know what the future holds or what my new job will be because God has figured out. My concern over the future and what my next moves will be doesn’t have to have a grip on me. The uncertainty has space to live with me, and I’m learning to let it settle in.

I can navigate the unknowns of life because I’m giving it room just be. Not everything needs a definition or words assigned to it. And even though I have no idea what I’m doing with my life when I enter a new season in three weeks, I know that God knows. That is always enough for me.

Uncertainty is not my enemy. It is my becoming.

Here is what I’m doing to navigate the unknowns as I prepare to walk into a new season with no path in front of me:

I’m redefining my questions.

Right now, a lot of my uncertainty stems from my job search. I don’t know what I want to do, which really isn’t much to go on. This is a massive reason why this next season is so uncertain for me. If I keep asking myself, “what do I want to do?” or “how are we going to pay for Wesley’s preschool?,” that isn’t very helpful. It just adds stress and causes me to spiral. 

But if I ask myself, “what are my goals with finding a job?” or “what characteristics am I looking for in a job?,” that’s a lot more helpful. Redefining our questions in times of uncertainty can help us make better decisions and create better reflection. I still don’t know what I want to do, but these questions are helping me as I work through that process.

I’m making a list of what I don’t want.

This might seem kind of strange, but I figure, if I don’t know what I want, I should make a list of things I know I don’t want. I know I don’t want a job that feels too robotic or distant from people. I don’t want something too far out of my areas of expertise. And I don’t want something that drains the life out of me. 

By making a list of the things I don’t want, I’ve been able to pinpoint some of the things I do want: helping people as a direct result of my work, staying in my areas of expertise but trying something new, and finding something that is rewarding. I may be uncertain about a lot of things still, but knowing what I don’t want is helping me stay on the right track as I go.

I’m speaking my dreams and goals into existence.

For a long time I’ve been scared of truly sharing my dreams and goals. If I speak them into existence it feels like I’m setting myself up for failure or judgment. But finding the confidence to share more of my dreams with others is helping me to find my path through the unknown.

By knowing what my dreams are, I’m better able to discern what is for me and what isn’t. And by knowing what my goals in life are—as long as they are in line with God’s will for me—I know that God will place the right thing in my life at the right time. 

I’m giving God room to move.

Part of the reason I’m finding some contentment in the unknowns is that I’m not waiting around with expectations. Instead, I’m giving God room to move in whichever way he wants. My hands are open just waiting for him to show me what to do next. I’m not trying to force anything with my expectations or by obsessively searching for jobs online (although that’s what I’m tempted to do at times). 

I’m spending more time in prayer these days, and I’m truly giving God space to answer me. While I haven’t prayed this way in a long time, this type of conversation with God has been giving me tremendous peace as I wait for him to move. 

I’m looking for answers in my everyday life.

Instead of focusing on the unknowns and uncertainty I’m walking into, I’m focusing on what matters now: This very day and these last few weeks I have fully at home with Wesley. In my attention to the ordinary, I’m finding more and more of God’s hand in everything. He’s giving me answers just through my being faithful to right now.

Every single moment is an opportunity for God to move in a profound way. He’s been speaking to me a lot lately through small things like the gratitude shell from a few weeks ago, the flowers that bloomed out of nothing beside the river, leaves beginning to change color, and my petunias that keep multiplying. Even the changing weather is a testament to the changes that are happening in my life. I know the answers I seek live within these everyday moments.

Finding Peace in my Waiting

I’ve had eighteen months to consider what this next season holds for me. Perhaps I’ve actually had a lifetime. But as I grow and evolve and change into the person God is calling me to be, I suppose it’s natural to feel uncertain every once in a while—or even most of the time. No new season comes with full understanding. Nor does it ever mean we will have all the answers. Life ebbs and flows, and just like the deep holds secrets and mystery, our lives will hold them too. 

Nothing is ever completely certain other than God, and even he is a mystery to us. But I will hold onto hope that even when I’m standing at the door of uncertainty, I know that he holds the key, he’s on the other side, and he’s the door itself. He is in my very midst even in my unknowns. I will find peace in my waiting.