There’s no shame in ignorance; only in pretending to know things you don’t. When you don’t know the answer to a question, say so. Admit it: I don’t know.
Real wisdom isn’t about knowing things; instead, it’s a willingness to be taught. A wise person, by acknowledging their own ignorance, leaves space for the next step, a new discovery, fresh insight.
Such epiphanies doesn’t always come easy. When Jesus was raised from the dead, his disciples simply couldn’t fathom it. They were so busy processing the crucifixion that they were unable to absorb the reality of the resurrection.
It wasn’t until Jesus appeared to them – in the garden saying Mary’s name; on the road to Emmaus breaking bread; by the seashore eating fish – that the disciples were able to see the truth. Jesus had to literally reach out and touch someone before his disciples finally understood.
If even the Twelve couldn’t wrap their heads around what would happen to Jesus, how can I expect to understand what God is doing in my own life? Despite my earnest attempts to anticipate God’s plan, I’m constantly astonished. Better to admit it up front: I have no idea what’s going on here.
Real strength lies, not in knowing, but in trusting. Having faith that despite my lack of understanding, the Holy Spirit is present with me. Jesus walks beside me on the way, ready to break the bread and pour the wine, if only I have eyes to see it. If I’ll invite him to come and stay the night with me, he will show himself.
What is getting in between you and the next step that God wants to reveal to you? What are the un-examined assumptions you’re carrying? What is it you think you know? Are there unexpected marks of the resurrection hiding right under your nose?