I found myself saying that I am this very thing to a dear friend after asking her for some advice in a particularly troubling situation. I just want to KNOW, I insisted, how it was going to play out and fit into the bigger picture.
Yet I had to immediately eat my own words which formed a rather large serving of humble pie. You see, I have attempted to speak into others’ lives – whose circumstances were far more tragic – about this very “topic.” In fact, in each of the cases that come to mind, I unhesitatingly sent one of my favorite devotions from My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers, entitled “Gracious Uncertainty.”
Here is a longer-than-normal excerpt:
“Our natural inclination is to be so precise– trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next– that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We think that we must reach some predetermined goal, but that is not the nature of the spiritual life. The nature of the spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty. Consequently, we do not put down roots. Our common sense says, ‘Well, what if I were in that circumstance?’ We cannot presume to see ourselves in any circumstance in which we have never been.
Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life – gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has place closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises.”
I recently watched – or, more accurately, tried to process – a TED Talk given by astrophysicist, Brian Schmidt entitled, yes: “There is certainty in uncertainty.” In discussing climate change, he says you cannot predict exactly what a “chaotic system” such as the earth’s climate is going to do no matter how much you already know and can measure. He insists you have to expect surprises and that scares the “you-know-what” out of him. I would argue that as “lay people,” we are not unlike scientists in this regard as surprises can be both welcome and unwelcome.
I remember one such unwelcome surprise when my mother died unexpectedly in 2002. Upon receiving this news, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I could only then manage to stagger outside, crouch under a tree, bury my face in my hands and try desperately to catch my breath.
Not long after, however, my sister encouraged me to simply “do the next right thing.” She said it could be as mundane as unloading the dishwasher or as I experienced, packing up four children who would all end up having strep throat by the time of the funeral. Then, it was pulling my van off of a quiet, country road and writing down all the things I loved about my mother on a sheet of legal paper, sick children protesting- or not. I can’t recall.
Boy, have I continued to live by the mantra of “do the next right thing.” And that next right thing can be very minor in the grand scheme of things and that’s ok. In fact it’s more than ok, it’s downright essential.
Interestingly, Schmidt speaks to the fact that the little things really do matter. He offers that in science, “infinitesimal differences lead to different outcomes.” Well, in life we are faced every day with countless “infinitesimal” choices which we can control, each of which influences an outcome we cannot.
That choice might be a smile, a listening ear or a “random” act of kindness which will never be noticed. Maybe it’s telling someone you love them even when you don’t feel like it, writing a difficult note you have put off or banning your cell phones from the dinner table. Or to quote a former Navy SEAL, perhaps it’s just making your bed . . . every single day.
One right thing- that’s what we can do next. It’s called our part. And when we do ours, I believe God will surely do His.
Leave everything to Him.
Caroline Watkins
