A State of Not-Knowing

My Thai language skills are far from fluent, and although many people compliment me on speaking “so clearly”, the breadth and depth of my vocabulary leaves much to be desired.  This means that I am often suspended in a state of not-knowing.

Example:  (Any dialogue in Thai will be in italics)

Right now I have a sore throat and stuffy nose, and my voice is just returning from taking a weekend holiday.  My friend Leemer pops into the office and says, “Lauren, qwertyuiop the medicine in front of the university asdfghjkl; is better.”  I smile and nod my head.  “Lauren, do you understand me?” “No.”  Leemer laughs. “The medicine zxcvbnm,. in front of the university is better poiuytrewq.  If you want me to, I can go buy you some.”  “Oh, thanks Leemer, but that’s ok, don’t worry about it.”

I still don’t know what medicine is better if you buy it in front of the university, as opposed to behind the university or in front of the hospital, and I don’t know what kind of medicine he meant either.  But, I often live in this state of not-knowing, and I’ve gotten quite used to it.  Of course, I’m not satisfied with it enough to stop learning language; rather, it’s an adaptation I’ve had to make as I learn.  I may never know why medicine is better to buy in front of the university, but I do know that if I need to know I can ask Leemer again, and I also know that I have friends who are willing to help me out when I’m sick or in a tough spot.

So as I was sitting up at 4am drinking tea to try to stop a coughing fit and writing this blog in my mind, I wondered… why am I content to live in a state of not-knowing about some things and not others?  Or rather, why do I pressure God to tell me things that I so desperately want to know?  Why can’t I live simply in a state of not-knowing when it comes to God’s plans and ways, which really I know fully well will work out great in the end?

What are your comfortable and uncomfortable states of not-knowing?  Does something need to change?