“I don’t know.” Those are three words I don’t like to say.
Silence is awkward, and ignorance is embarrassing. I want to have an answer. So I give one whether I have one or not. I form an opinion on the spot, if need be.
I want to come across as knowledgeable and prepared. If I don’t respond, someone may think I haven’t studied my Bible or that I’m not sure about where I stand or what I believe. They’ll think I don’t know.
May I be honest for a second?
I don’t know.
I don’t know what God is saying to me in every passage.
I don’t know what my response should be.
I don’t know where Laodicea was. Or why Ruth chose to go with Naomi. Or how the battles flow chronologically. Or which relatives belong to whom.
I don’t know three points of application after the first read. Or the fifteenth.
I don’t know why the New Testament quotes and applies the Old Testament in the way that it does.
I don’t know the biblical answer for every contemporary issue Christians face.
I don’t know what Paul’s thorn in the flesh was.
I don’t know if it means A, B, or C.
I don’t know my Bible inside and out.
I don’t know everything there is to know.
That’s good. It means I still live on this earth.
But while I’m waiting for my Home of Perfection, I’m adopting a new plan of action.
When I know? Make sure I know how I know and why I know.
When I think I know? Think again.
When I don’t know? Just say it:
“I don’t know.”
[image credit: pixabay.com, journeyoftheword.com]