I despise these words. I really do.
Of all the words in the English vocabulary, these might be might least favorite . . . wait, I take that back. My least favorite are “I can’t do….” Those are my least favorite.
But “I don’t know.” Well, that is pretty close to the bottom. It is at the very bottom when I am the one who says it.
Lately, though, it has come out of my mouth a lot. It is not really that fun, to be honest. But I have learned through it, God is teaching me. Teaching me lessons I would sometimes rather not learn, but lessons that will mold me to be more like Him tomorrow than I was today. For this, I should be thankful.
My children ask questions. And believe it or not, I do not know the answer to all of them. I know, it shocks me too. I thought for sure by the time I hit my age that I could surely answer the seven-year-old’s questions. Not so much.
Additionally, with a hubby in the military, family members ask us questions I do not know. When is he coming home? When is he going to get promoted next? When is he planning to retire?
I am also working to help build a ministry. This was one big, gigantic, huge, massive step of faith. I do not feel qualified or capable many days. Questions come regularly and I do not have answers. How do we do this? When are we doing this? Who is going to do that? I have no idea.
Really. No idea.
Certainly not my favorite place to be, but a place where God can teach me . . . and I can watch Him work.
Through the questions I can’t answer, I have learned that I really am not qualified for much of anything. Parenting. Helping build a ministry. Leading a Bible study. Being a wife to my hubby. I am really not qualified. It is humbling, but good.
What it does is bring me back to the feet of my Savior, because He does have the answer. It gets me back into His Word seeking His answer, looking for Him to work around me, and learning to wait. The humility brings a heart that longs to know – not the answers to every questions, but the Savior who does.
I don’t know. Really I don’t. I don’t know the answers to every question. I don’t know what tomorrow brings. I don’t know how He will answer my prayers. I am not qualified or capable.
I don’t know, but I have a Savior who does. Watching Him take my things and do His thing has been phenomenal . . . and scary, but I am thankful for the journey – and the One who knows the route.