Uncertainty

When I was a kid, I would go through periods of overwhelming uncertainty about things far into the future that I had no control over—things like where I would go to college, what job I would have, what kind of wife I would marry (an amazing one, by the way), and where we would live when we returned to the States from the mission field. This uncertainty would captivate my mind, keeping me stuck, ruminating on things far off in the future, and distracting me from what was happening right in the moment.

The present moment, however, held pain, abuse, and trauma. Would the future make the pain go away? Would things get better? Despite my struggles, I was surrounded by so many good things! I had a home, friends, and a blue 10-speed mountain bike with black polka dots. I had the freedom to ride and roam as far as I pleased, as long as I was home by supper. Sometimes on these rides, I would test my limits—taking a corner a little faster or trying to pop a wheelie a little higher—only to come to my senses in a cloud of dust, picking stones out of my knees and hoping my bike wasn’t broken.

Uncertainty, I believe, comes from not feeling like you have control over what’s happening in the present. Curt Thompson, MD, says that people have deep core needs: we need to feel seen, safe, secure, and soothed. When those deep needs are constantly threatened, our sense of uncertainty rises. Over time, this uncertainty can turn into anxiety, and if left untreated, even lead to panic attacks.

Now, at 39, I find myself in the middle of a level of uncertainty I haven’t felt in years. I’m standing at a complex intersection, far from home, far from security, with no clear idea of where each path leads. Will I ever lead a church again? Will I be able to continue working as a diesel mechanic after my back surgery? Will my son forgive me for the ways I’ve hurt him? Will my marriage heal? Do I have what it takes to become the kind of husband and father that looks like Jesus? Uncertainty, anxiety, panic.

But Jesus said in Matthew, “Who can add one hour to his life by worrying? Today has enough troubles of its own.” If I dwell on uncertainty, I’ll miss out on the wonderful qualities of those around me. I’ll miss how kind, intelligent, creative, and playful my son is. I’ll miss the loyalty and patience of my wife, who bears with me when I insist that being a knucklehead is better than being like Jesus. I’ll overlook the support and accommodation my boss shows me as I recover from surgery. I’ll miss how God is opening doors for ministry in new and challenging ways.

So, I leave you with this: the antidote to uncertainty is gratitude. Stop and reflect on what you already have. Identify the things that make you who you are. Write them down, and be grateful.