I read this phrase in a book recently –
The Place of Great Unknowing
Have you been here?
Or been forced to visit by things far from your control?
There’s very little in this place of great unknowing that feels familiar.
Like the edge of the ocean, the sands of certainty slip away with each new wave.
High tide or low,
the washing away of the earth below your feet is exactly the same.
I sit with people every day who stand in this place.
But even as I listen, I’m fully aware that I stand here too.
This place of great unknowing.
“Un” after “un” fills our stories.
Shifting sand slips away beneath us –
and our balance feels anything but steady.
At some point along the way, though,
we realize we all visit this place much more often than we’d like.
What do we do with this reality?
How do we keep from falling?
Message after message arrives in my inbox………..
sand is slipping all around me.
Tomorrow is scarier than today.
And today seems pretty frightening.
I think of Psalm 61:2,
“From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.”‘
Maybe that’s it.
Maybe it’s not about getting away from this place.
Maybe it’s about knowing where to stand when we’re here.
Because the truth is-
we all live in this place of great unknowing.
The fanciest calendar will never control what the pages actually hold.
I remember calendars filled with things that never happened.
Written in ink, I had scheduled life.
But in the place of great unknowing we don’t really hold the pen.
So it’s knowing where to stand and knowing Who really writes our story.
Like any master of his art, our Author loves suspense.
So turning the page on life holds mystery.
And this mystery requires trust.
That’s where I’m at today.
I feel a chapter ending……
but I know the One who is already writing the next one.
And He knows me.
He knows you too.
He knows what we don’t know in this great place of unknowing.
And honestly, what else do we need to know???
He holds the pen, so I can let go.
Release my grip.
Take my stand on the rock.
Let the waves crash in.
The sand still slips away, but somehow I don’t.
Somehow I stand.
Not alone and never in my own strength.
He is my Rock and He holds my pen.
He is Your Rock and He holds your pen too.
So today I will give thanks in this place of great unknowing.
Because I know the One who holds this unknown place in the palm of His all-knowing hand.