I don't know

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; my soul is like the weaned child that is with me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time on and forevermore. (Psalm 131, NRSVUE)

My time as a pastor at Urban Village Church is coming to a close and, understandably, many people are asking a key question: What are you going to do next? I’m not sure I’ve seen more quizzical looks in recent months than when I answer with three words that seem to be used less and less these days:

I don’t know.

We live in an age where answers are everywhere. Got a question? Whether it’s about driving routes, math problems, relationship advice, DIY projects, or 1960s television trivia, most of us have devices that can give us answers in seconds to so many things. “I don’t know,” then, is a phrase that doesn’t get uttered as much in our society.

After months of praying, researching, and having multiple conversations, I’m kind of back to where I started last August when I announced that I was stepping down as the lead pastor of UVC. I’ve started the interviewing process for one job so that might work out, but I don’t have a Plan B any more. I applied for a different position in January and didn’t get an interview (“After carefully reviewing your application for the position of XX, please be advised that at this juncture what we are pursuing other candidates…”) There was a position at another church that would have entailed us moving and I thought about it, but decided not to pursue it. Instead I’m trying to embrace the “I don’t know” of it all.

I typed in the words “unsure of direction bible” in a search engine yesterday morning and many articles popped up about trust and smooth paths. But I’m finding more comfort from Psalm 131. What I’m going to do next is a thing that sometimes feels “too great and marvelous” for me. When I fret about the future, I tend to look for signs everywhere. Is this a thing? Should I apply for that? Have that conversation? It’s a kind of exhausting. Instead, I’m praying for a calm and quiet soul and hoping that whatever is next will be whatever is next. It might have a big impact. It might not. I don’t know.

I hope when you’re faced with a big decision, you might find some guidance in Psalm 131 and pray for a calm and quiet soul, too. Hope is right around the corner.

Photo is from Unsplash by Einar Storsul

To receive brief daily devotions from me on a daily basis: Please make a contribution to my CROP Walk to support Church World Service. You can do that by either paying to be a subscriber on Substack ($60 a year) or make a gift of any amount on my CROP Walk page and then email me and let me know you’d like to get these emails daily. All payments to Substack will go toward my CROP Walk.